Le Fantôme de l'ange
by Apprentice08
Summary: The music brought them together and the music tore them apart. Now with their lives twisted in fates clutches what can a broken diva a deformed genius and a mother and her daughter do to survive? What will become of them all in this, the Phantom's story
1. The Safe House

**A/N: So this will be my first Phantom of the Opera story. As much as I would like to write this story based off the original novel or the musical I unfortunately don't clearly remember either of them enough to do either justice. I saw the musical when I was 13 and I read the book when I was 9. **

**So the only thing I have been able to see and study is the 2004 movie. I have recently bought the original novel but Gaston Leroux and plan to re-read it very soon. I also plan to see the musical again next time it comes into town. For now I will use what I can from the movie and things I have studied about the Paris Opera and other references, including a two-hour documentary about the creation of the phantom. **

**The prologue takes place right after Christine leaves with Raoul. The first chapter takes place some time later which I will establish after I have decided to what extent I want the separation between Erik and Christine to be. **

**I need to make a comment before you start reading, though I am a HUGE Erik and Christine fan and wish she had chosen Erik over the lazy Aristocrat Raoul I will try my best to be true to each character and to not allow my bias to cause anything unrealistic in the character development. I have read many published and unpublished sequels and while some disappointed other enchanted me even further. I hope I can create an original sequel of my own and I hope it does not disappoint. **

**I take this fan fiction more seriously then my others (not to say I care about them any less) for the fact that believe it or not this story in all it's many creative forms has helped to shape my life and shape what my future career will be. This story has also affected my desire to be a novelist because the first time I read the book I was very young and the story enchanted me very quickly. This story has a profound effect on my writing style and I can't thank Gaston Leroux enough for that. (Or at all unfortunately) **

**My greatest fear (and of course what has kept me from writing a fan fiction or "Phan fiction") is that I will not do justice to the characters, the story, the memories it has given me, or the history behind this great creation. I hope I don't let anyone down. **

**So to those who have actually taken the time to read this ridiculously long author's note thank you and I hope you enjoy this story. **

Prologue

The Safe House

**M**adam Giry sat in a chair that was on the far side of a small room; it resided next to a tiny fireplace upon which she was placing pieces of sticks and bark. The room was cold and seemed to suck all heat away into the darkness.

The snow outside fell like pieces of cotton caught on a light breeze. They danced and spun like dancers and Madam Giry couldn't help but think of Christine and Meg. They had grown up in the ballet together, and now they would be separated. Though Madam Giry had wished she could be happy for the now up and coming Opera star she felt her heart was heavy.

Nothing had gone according to plan, better put; nothing had gone according to HIS plan. He had wanted to take her away, but he had not counted on the Vicomte. The young man was brave, foolish and compulsive. Erik had not counted on the Vicomte's brash personality being strong enough to pull Christine away from her master.

So much had happened in a year's time, and now the Opera house was destroyed, it had gone up in flames. Madame Giry's lively hood, her daughter's future, all destroyed. What would they do now? What would become of them all?

A knock sounded on the front door of the small house and Madam Giry stood with a stony face. She hesitated to open it but then another knock came, which was slightly more forceful, she jumped a little and then headed for the door.

She took the handle and waited a moment, a deep breath passed by her lips and then she slowly opened the door. There he stood, The Phantom of the Opera. His eyes filled with rage, and his face covered by a hooded cloak.

"I did not think you would come Antoinette." His low voice said as he passed by her.

"I will always come at your request. I owe you much."

"As I you." He said crossing to a coat rack. He removed his articles of clothing swiftly then fell silent. Madam Giry had just locked the door and bolted it when she turned to see his still figure. The man was unpredictable but he had never harmed her or her daughter. She reached an arm out and spoke softly, "Erik…" she started.

"Do not try to offer comfort. She has made her choice…and it was not I. I can live with her decision though the pain is a cruel reminder. I shall never see her face again." His voice was bitter and angry.

"Do not show such despair. Fate has a way of twisting what is horrible and cruel into something that is wonderful."

"I was lost in my rage, I destroyed everything for her. Our home Nettie, my music… my instruments and all my other works… are gone. My inspiration and my love, even my life. All is adrift in chaos."

"But do you not see Erik? You are as confused and lost as the little boy I once took away and hid. This is your chance to start over, rise from the ashes of the fire like a phoenix. There will be more music, other Opera's. Life will go on."

Erik turned to her and she saw his face, it had been years since she had gazed upon his deformed and scared complexion. She looked now, her face stayed as emotionless as ever, she did not fear him. If anything she pitied him, the only woman he had ever loved had dismissed him, had chosen an Aristocratic boy over the genius that was before her.

Madam Giry did agree that Erik had gone to far on many occasions, but everything he had done, everything he had created in the last few years had been for her. She had walked away from a man who could have given her so much more then wealth and statues, she had walked away from a musical prodigy.

Madam Giry had seen the way Erik could entrance the girl, how he could carry her mind away to places she had only dreamed of. Christine's fear of having no control had really influenced her over all choice. But had she really ever taken the time to try and understand this man?

Perhaps it was really the death that had scared the young singer away, Erik had killed mercilessly and Christine had seen the death that followed this man. Had the girl not seen she was the one who could tame him? She was the one who could bring him peace at last?

"The music has left me, the night has turned it's back on me. Darkness has always been kind to me, taken me into its cold embrace. But now all I feel is the shadows laughing at me, the dark mocks me. I can never write my music again Nettie. I shall never sing another note as long as she is away from me." Erik turned from her and strode to the fireplace; he leaned forward and rested his arm on the mantel as he gazed at the dying embers. His eyes were read from tears of anger and regret. His body shook with each labored breath. He had let her go. Why had he let her go?

The kiss, the kiss she had given him. It had changed something inside him, it had dislodged a little piece of his anger, and made the raging fire of hate and miseries lessen in his heart. The knot in his twisted soul became a little less tight and he could feel warmth race through his body for the first time in his entire life.

He started speaking softly, to who he did not know. He was not even sure Nettie was still behind him. His voice was hollow and quiet, more like a voice that was being choked and pulled from his throat then anything else, "I lost. I lost her; I gave her up like she meant nothing to me. She might as well have meant nothing to me. I was a fool to try, and a fool to believe. I saw the world in shades of gray when I should have seen it in black and white. And it's too late now, she is gone because I let her go, I ruined everything because I let her go. And now I am alone, just like before. Oh bitter days that have transpired you shall taste even more astringent knowing I shall forever reside in darkness. A darkness that no longer even offers me my solace. Cruel fate how she laughs at me, and cruel woman who would spurn my love for another's."

More silence and then Erik spun around and kicked the chair that resided near by; it slammed into the wall and shattered, "WHY MUST I BE AN ANGEL STUCK IN THIS UNHOLY HELL! A DEMON WITH A HALO! AN ANGEL WITH HORNS! OH IT IS ALL THE SAME! A CRUEL TWISTED FALLACY!"

Madam Giry had in fact been watching and she now backed away from him, it was best not to disturb him in moments like this. When he spoke with such eloquence he was at his most dangerous.

Erik then turned on her; she backed away further and locked eyes with him, "Et Tu Brute?" He rounded on her and she kept her back to the wall, "I know what you did Nettie. I am disappointed. You did take me in after all, you protected me till I was grown enough to protect myself. Never did I think you would be the one to lead the Vicomte to me."

Madam Giry's eyes grew wide, "Yes Nettie I know… you led him straight to me. You betrayed me in a way that could rival that of Christine."

"Please Erik… you were killing people. I thought the girl in danger. She is like a daughter to me. I was afraid…"

"Afraid of what?" He barked in an abnormally cruel voice, "Afraid I would harm her? Kill her? Disembowel her? I loved her Nettie!"

Silence fell between them and Erik stared at her with angry eyes, he made no move to come at her and she made no move to escape. "I am… I am sorry I betrayed you Erik. I only had her in mind; what ever happened to the Vicomte was not my concern. If he never came up from the catacombs I would have not even had a second thought of him."

Erik's defiant stance lessened considerably at that last remark, "Christine meant a great deal to both of us. I can understand your thinking but why not come yourself to see to her well being?"

"I feared for my self and my daughter, if I was caught down below… if they knew I had had a hand in your phantomesq reign I would have been killed… Meg as well."

Erik stared at her, his eyes studied her face, and then he stood and straightened his tattered clothes. He walked back over to the fire and stared into it again. He said nothing but as the tension between them faded Madam Giry allowed her body to relax and then she spoke softly.

"You must allow me to speak with my daughter before she meets you Erik. She does not understand much of what has happened and I am afraid that Gabriel and her superstitious ways have made their mark on her. She will be here soon, I told her to not be seen. Are there many people still out?"

Erik didn't look away from the fading fire but spoke with a dry voice, "The mob is still searching the catacombs, it's mostly police and inspectors walking the streets, many of the citizens have come out to watch the fire. They love watching something be destroyed as much as they loved listening to their _pathetic_ Diva."

"I pray she make this journey safely. Come, up the stairs to your new room, I shall bring you some tea in a moment." Madam Giry said as she left the small entryway and headed towards the even smaller kitchen.

Erik didn't move for a moment, his mind was too full of cruel laughter.

_HA HA HA! You really thought she could love you. You really thought she would choose to love you. _

**She kissed me. **

_She showed you pity, she used your love for her own gain so she could get everything she wanted and you would lose all you knew and loved. _

**I only loved her. **

_You loved her because of her voice; you loved how she made you feel. You loved the promise of sex. _

**That was not my intentions towards her; our one night meant nothing. **

_Of course it meant nothing… to her. _The voice hissed.

**She chose him, but she loved me. I don't care what you say I know she loved me. **

_She put up with you because she knew she needed your tutelage. She took what she needed from you and then left you to rot. You are low, to low for her. She wanted the sun, and all you could give was the moon. She wanted money and power and all you could give was music. _

**No, not my Christine, she is humble. She is not a murderess wretch like me. Power and control at not her weakness. She loved me.** Erik repeated this to himself over and over; he was trying to shove the annoying influence from his head. **She loved me and I still love her.**

Erik felt his heart breaking more, for he knew truthfully she could never have loved him. She could pity him but never truly love him. She could love his music, but never him.

"Erik please my friend, you must rest. Meg will be here soon and she mustn't see you until she knows the truth." Erik glanced at Nettie and reluctantly nodded, he moved towards her and then passed gracefully up the small flight of stairs to the second floor.

"Your room is on the right." Madam Giry said softly knowing he heard her. A soft knock on the door made Madam Giry turn once again. She moved to the door a little quicker then she needed and unlocked it. She opened it and Meg stood there with a strange look on her face. Madam Giry ushered her inside and then glanced around the streets. No one was around; she shut the door and locked it again.

"Mother. Please, what is this foolishness that has brought me so far from home?"

"Meg, my beautiful child… we must talk. And you must listen with an open heart. Can you do that for me?" Meg stared at her mother in surprise, rarely had her mother ever talked to her like this. Even the tone in her voice was softer then usual.

"Can you Meg? You must promise to open your heart or you will not understand." Meg slowly nodded and her mother sighed pulling the young girl to her breast.

"You are indeed a kind daughter. Come with me now." Madam Giry lead her daughter into the small room with the fireplace and, after righting the chair Erik had kicked, set her daughter down next to the fireplace, Madam Giry sat on the dirty floor, her dress puffed out around her.

"Please mother take the chair, you will get dirty, and your knees will ach." Meg protested trying to stand.

"No Meg, for this story you must be seated."

Meg slowly lowered herself and waited for her mother to start, "Long ago, when I was but a girl I lived in the dormitories of the Paris Opera…"

**E**rik sat in his room; he stared at the piece of paper before him lined with music bars. Nettie had managed to get her hands on some and had placed it upon his desk in this small hole in the wall that she called a room.

Though he was used to the large room he had once resided in, and used to the never-ending tunnels that twisted and turned under the city he knew staying in such a small cramped space was necessary for now. Until the Parisian's calmed down he could not leave this house, nor could he retrieve any of his things from his lair.

He stared at the lines on the paper until his eyes hurt, he felt a lone tear drop from his eye and it left a blotched mark on one of the black lines.

In his mind he saw blood dripping down the paper from notes he had freshly made. He watched as the blood rolled down the sheet and onto the floor. The blood of his soul, the soul that had created such beautiful music was now shredded. He would never create music again.

He had been bared from the normality of the world, bared from anything that was true and solid. He had been bared from love, from having a real family, from being truly happy. All because of his gruesome face.

He hated everyone, he hated everything, the anger started to boil in him and in an instant he was ready to break the first think he could grab hold off.

A soft knock on the door made him blink and when he looked down at the paper it was white and clean with the exception of the teardrop, which had smudged some of the ink.

"Enter." Erik's raspy voice said. He expected Madam Giry but was not all to surprised to see the young dancer, Meg, enter with a tray of tea and some cookies. She was shaking like a leaf and Eric realized he had not a thing to cover his face with. He turned down the light quickly and then looked to the girl.

"Do not fear child, I am nothing but a man. I shall not harm you." Erik placed his hand over his deformity and Meg seemed to visibly relax. "My mother asked me to bring you this." She said softly placing the tray on the bed.

"I assume she explained to you how we came to meet, and of how our friendship came into being?" Erik asked standing.

He had never realized how tiny Meg was; she was sixteen but shared the same body type as Christine, petite and miniature. She looked up at him with wide eyes, "You need not fear child." He repeated to her and she nodded once again as she looked towards the door.

"Is it really true you were a prisoner of gypsies?" Meg asked.

"I would not say prisoner. My mother, being the kind hearted woman she was, sold me to them." Erik said in a snide voice.

Meg's jaw dropped about half an inch as she stared at him, "That is cruel." Meg whispered.

"That my dear child is what fear can do to a woman who does not understand this." The man said motioning to his face, though Erik knew the girl meant no harm he was no in the mood for this type of interaction.

Meg stared at him a moment and then reached into a satchel that was hanging from her shoulder. Erik had noticed it before but had not given it a thought. She rummaged around a moment and then slowly withdrew from the bag an object that Erik never thought he would see again.

"When we were looking for Christine… we came across your lair. I reached it first and found my way into what I assume was your… private room." She blushed a little and her shaky hands reached out to him holding his white mask.

"I took it as a trophy… I thought… I mean I didn't know who you were I didn't know…" Meg couldn't bring herself to finish.

Erik reached for the mask and took it; he stared at the mask that had become so much a part of him he could hardly ever tell when it was on. It was like a second skin to him now and as much as he wished to put it back on and hide his face from this virtuous child he couldn't.

She gazed at him a moment more as if thinking of a question she wanted to ask, she was not sure how to ask or if it would be considered rude. After a moment she seemed to make her decision.

"May I… May I see it?" she asked moving a little closer.

Erik stared at the girl in surprise, "Are you sure you wish to see it? It has been the cause of many a nightmare."

Meg almost reluctantly nodded, Erik stared a moment longer and hid a sigh. He removed his hand from his face and allowed Meg to approach. She did so slowly and when she reached the desk she aimed to turn the lamp up.

"No, leave it." Erik ordered.

Meg had jumped a little as his hand had shot out towards the lamp. She took a step back and stared, "Come here child." Erik said softly once again beckoning her forward.

Meg finally took a step and came to stand before him, she looked up into his face and saw not the terrible skeleton she had heard stories about but what looked more so like a horrible burn. His eye was a different color then the one on the left side of his face and the skin looked like it had been pulled taught. She reached up slowly and froze inches from it.

"May I?" she asked.

Erik gazed into her eyes and saw not fear but curiosity. He gave one curt nod and Meg allowed her hand to rest on the side of his face. He couldn't help it, he closed his eyes and a deep breath released itself from his throat. Only Christine had ever dared touch his face, his skin ached from the touch. Meg rubbed her fingers along his cheekbone and felt the strange texture of his skin.

It was truly gruesome, but where she once felt fear and hatred for the Phantom that had so often caused trouble for the Opera, she now felt pity and compassion. She saw the longing on his face, she saw the rage and anger and loneliness in his heart. She knew he was not the murdering fiend most thought and now like her mother she swore she would help this man.

No matter the cost to herself or her future.

**A/N: So what do you think? Are they out of character? Do I need to go back and rewrite? I love constructive feed back, no flames though; I was never able to appreciate those. I really want to know, don't feel bad about being honest. This is one story I won't mind taking down and making changes to. Tell me honestly! I hoped you enjoyed it. **


	2. The Return Home

Chapter One

The Return Home

**R**aoul stared up at the painting that hung on the wall of his well lavished home. He sat in a chair with his boot-clad foot resting on the edge of a near by table. His thumb and forefinger rested on his chin as he stared up at the oil painting with curious eyes.

The painting was of him and Christine, an engagement present of sorts. Both of them looked like royalty, but neither had smiled at such a prospect. He studied Christine's angelic face and then his own more masculine face. It had been two years since the incidents that led up to their escape from the Opera Ghost.

Much had happened in that time, many things had been brought up, most of which had to do with Christine and her rather humble origins. She was not an aristocrat, she was the daughter of a musician, an artist known all around the world, and in turn she had become an artist herself.

Not many people looked fondly upon this union, but then again not many people had a say in the matter. Questions however, still flowed through Raoul's mind. His eyes were puffy and his nose was pink from being rubbed raw by a handkerchief.

It had been a cruel last three days; his heart was aching like nothing he had ever felt before. Christine was gone, and Raoul was in no position to bring her back. It had started only six months into their marriage. Raoul's family and his family's advisers, of which were mostly lawyers and other bland people had pushed for Raoul to reproduce. He needed and heir, _preferably a boy, _one of the many people had croaked.

Christine was all too happy to put her singing career on hold to try and be a good wife, she smiled and patted her tummy singing softly to the small bulge that had eventually began to form. All was calm while the entire Changey family watched and waited.

That is when things had started to take a turn, for late one night Christine cried out in pain. Raoul rushed to her side and pulled the covers back only to discover that Christine's blood had soaked the sheets.

It took hours to bring her back from the edge of death and at the end of it all she wished they had let her die; she had lost her child. Raoul had been more fearful and worried for Christine then that of his stillborn babe that Christine had wept over.

Though Raoul and the doctors were aware that stillborn children were common and not unheard of, Christine had taken it rather hard. She stopped eating, she stopped singing, and life ceased to exist for her.

In her sorrow for her child she had forgotten that she needed to take care of herself. The doctors had warned Raoul of trying to conceive another child; it could kill Christine and the baby.

This fact did not please anyone in the Changey family. While Raoul had been content to spend the rest of his life with just Christine by his side he knew he would need an heir. Over the course of the next two years they had tried, much to Christine's hesitation and Raoul's nerves. In that two years time they were not able to conceive a child.

And over the course of those two years Christine had drifted from him, her once rosy and youthful skin had turned pale; her once glowing eyes had turned dim and lifeless. She rarely talked and had allowed her forms of communication to melt into nothing more then a nod of her head for yes or a shake of her head for no.

Christine's sobs as she lay in bed at night had kept Raoul awake but as much as he tried, his arms and warmth seemed to offer no comfort to her. She was a walking phantom, thinner then he had ever seen her, paler then a ghost, her hair hanging in thick un-brushed locks.

Raoul had begged her to eat, begged her to sing, he had begged her to do anything other than lament. She had lost that first child over two years ago… she was not to mourn the loss anymore. His fear of her wasting away was growing worse and worse, and he felt powerless towards negating her sorrow.

To this Christine and looked up and stared into his eyes, "What good is a wife with a cursed womb?" Her voice had been raspy, for she had not used it in months.

What could Raoul say to that? What could he do to comfort a broken heart such as this? All his love, all his effort went into keeping her alive and now he sat in his chair staring at the painting of his once beautiful Christine.

The question that had been plaguing his mind could probably be answered by the letter he held in his other hand. He had not yet read it, though he had held claim to it for three days. His family that knew of the letter urged him to read it, to figure out where the girl, his wife, had gone to.

Raoul had promised that if she were not back in three days time he would read the letter. He would read it now, whether he was ready or not.

He opened the letter with shaky hands and as his eyes read the words he felt the tears start to slide down his face.

_My Dearest Raoul, _

_If you are reading this letter you must know that I have taken no great pleasure in causing you so much pain over the last two years. I understand that losing a child is common; I know most women are lucky to even conceive. But I never imagined I would be one of the women to lose her child. And the pain alone of this loss has cursed me. I cannot escape the despair I feel over this issue no matter how hard I try. But I must be truthful; I have left you not just because of my loss of child, but also because of my loss of self. I haven't been able to sing Raoul, not like I used to. I thought my music could save me, I thought it could offer me a protective shell in which I could hide. But now I see I cannot hide from my utter despair, nor can I hide from you. I love you with all my heart, just as much as I did the first time you called me Little Lotte. But I cannot lie to you, upon the loss of my child I no longer feel like I can be a wife. You must have an heir Raoul, and it is obvious I am not the woman who can give you this. Even when we tried again and again nothing came of it. I can no longer provide for you what you need and I have so little to offer otherwise. I wish you the best of luck and I give you my blessing in all your future endeavors. Remember me as I was and not how I left you. May God lead you to a bright future; I wish you a long and happy life. _

_Sincerely, _

_Christine Daae._

Raoul stood from his chair and crossed to the window, he gazed out onto the grounds below him and felt a lone tear run down his face. His questions were all but answered save one.

A question he did not want to ask himself but knew that he would have, it was question that disturbed him. Even after everything that had transpired in the last two years Raoul still felt like he loved Christine. He would die for her, do anything to protect her, and the fact that she would just up and leave him like this made him feel a burning emotion that was uncommon to him.

But still the question plagued his mind and he knew he would have to face this question if he wanted any form of comfort from the events that had just occurred.

If Raoul really loved her, if he really cared and wanted to be with her… why then when he read this letter did he not go after her? Why was he standing here contemplating things, instead of jumping onto a horse and chasing her down to reassure her of his fierce Love. There was only two places she would dare go, one was the cottage by the sea but the weather was still to unpredictable at this time of year and her being in such a weak state would do little to encourage her to try to go that far away. The only other place would be to the Giry household. The woman had taken her in when she had lost her father. She would want the comfort of Madame Giry, perhaps this woman could convince Christine to come back.

Raoul turned quickly and moved to a near by desk, he started to write and spent the next few moments after finishing the letter to reread it over and over to make sure he had everything in it that he felt important. He rang the bell next to the door and a boy poked his head in, "Yes my Lord?"

"Take this message and bring it to a Madam Giry who lives in Paris. I don't care how long it takes you to find her. Do not return until you give it to her and do not entrust this letter to anyone but her. Do you understand?"

"Yes my Lord." The boy took the letter and then left Raoul to his room. It was empty and quiet; Raoul shivered and then strode back to the window. He glanced at her painting and then turned to stare back out of the window.

_I didn't go after her because I don't need to. My angel will come back to me, after all, she chose me in the end. She will do it again, just as I would die for her, she will come back to me. It is inevitable. Our love is inevitable; it is as deep and as wide as the ocean. _

Though he tried to reassure himself that she would return, he felt like there was more to this then Christine had told him. _Come back to me Christine that is all I ask of you. Just come back to me soon. _

Raoul stared out the window as rain started to splatter downward, the rain was on its way, to bring cold and wet screams on the wind. Raoul would spend tonight alone, and the next night and the night after that. As long as he must to feel her in his arms again, he would wait and he would never give up.

She was his everything, she was his sun and his moon and his mind and his soul… she was… his Little Lotte.

_My Little Lotte… my angel._

**C**_hristine… A_ voice whispered in the darkness. _Come to me Christine… come back to me my Angel of Music. _

_The darkness pulled at her cloak, she tried to scream but no sound came out. A child cried in the darkness as she searched high and low in the inky blackness. Christine… Christiiiine…. "_NO! LEAVE ME BE!"_ Christine cried out in fear. _

_You fear me? I created you! I gave you the only real thing you have ever had! I gave you my music! _

"I DON'T WANT IT!" _Christine bellowed into the darkness. She felt the clutches of night pulling at her, she felt hands rubbing her, pulling at her, urging her forward, she had to resist, she had to escape the darkness. _

A bump in the road stirred her from her sleep; she pulled her head away from the cold window of the carriage and looked to see where she was. Her eyes scanned the trees; she was not far from the outskirts of the city. Soon she would be in the city limits.

_Paris_. She thought longingly. Her home. The longest time she had ever lived in one place was there, in the city of Paris. She raised her thin frail hand and looked at her ring finger. The diamond stared back at her and her eyes filled with tears.

Had she made the right choice? She had longed to come home to Paris since the day she left. She had not given a second thought to it at first. When Raoul had taken her upon the Phantom's boat far across the lake, they had rushed far away from the Paris Opera House. Far away from the Phantom and his music, the music that had so often put her into a trance. The music that had filled her soul with flight and had caused her heart to soar, she ran from it for fear or her life, for fear of the darkness.

But oh how she missed the ballet, how she missed singing and performing, how she missed Meg and even to some strange and horrible degree how she missed Carlotta and all her cruel words and angry fits.

Christine watched as on the horizon the tops of buildings started to appear. Her heart beat faster; she was taking a rather large risk returning to this city. If HE was still residing here he was sure to learn she had returned. Would he seek her out? Would he come for her now that Raoul was not here to protect her?

Christine had learned much in her time away but she wasn't sure she could resist the music she had once lived for. It had consumed her, his voice, his music, and his kiss.

She shut her eyes and put her face in her hands, she wanted to cry but that just made her look weak. She was alone in the carriage but she couldn't help feel like someone was always watching.

Her lips suddenly burned and she felt ashamed of herself, she had kissed the Phantom in a desperate attempt to save Raoul. But that kiss had seared her memory. She could not forget his lips, his taste, and his scent.

Christine loved Raoul with a strength she had not know she could possess. But she had also, to some degree, loved the Phantom and she would never, and could never forget the way he had kissed her. A fiery passion that Christine had never before felt, nor had she ever felt it since.

She was confused, she had always been confused, and though her heart had told her to go with Raoul her soul had told her to disappear into the darkness with the Phantom. She didn't even know his name. She sneered at her own ignorance; she felt drawn to a man she didn't really know, a man that she had never really known.

What would await her now that she had not only ran away from the Phantom but the very man she would have given anything to save. Her heart grew so heavy she leaned back and put her hand to her chest. She was having trouble breathing properly.

Christine had managed to keep in contact with Meg, the girl had told her where she was now residing since the Opera house had been damaged beyond repair by the fire.

What had they been doing for the past two years now that the Opera Populair had been destroyed? Had they found another ballet? Were they still lucky enough to be able to perform? Only time would tell. Christine only hoped that her friend and the woman who had so selflessly taken her under her caring wing would allow her back into their lives after everything that had happened.

Christine waited for another hour as the carriage made it's way into the city, she waited for the carriage to stop and when it finally did she stared out the glossy window at the small house that she knew her friends to be in.

She took a deep breath and waited for the driver to open the door.

_**M**_eg rounded the street's corner holding tightly to the bag of goods she had just bought. There was not much but the three of them didn't need much. Erik hardly ate and between Meg and her mother, well, they just didn't need much food.

She had managed to get her hands on some fresh bread, two small fruits, a thing of meat and some fish. The surprise she held in the bag was at the bottom, which just so happened to be some freshly made candies. Her mother would not approve but occasionally when Meg felt sad or down the candies helped. Sporadically she would notice that pieces were missing which she did not eat. Since her mother was easily made ill by the sweets Meg could only assume that on the rare occasion Erik emerged from his room he must take a few.

Meg couldn't help but smile, in her entire life the Opera had been all she had known. The fact that the Phantom of the Opera might have enjoyed something like sweets had never occurred to her. She kept them for her and Erik as little treats when things seemed to be going wrong, or when there was more of a gloom then normal surrounding the house.

Meg rounded one last corner before she came to a stop. A carriage rested outside of her house, a woman stood at the door trying to peer through the window. She wasn't sure at first if it was a ghost or perhaps some sickly woman who had come to the door looking for charity. As Meg grew closer her slow footsteps began to increase in speed. By the time she was less then a street away she knew who was there waiting.

"Christine?" The girl called out in shock.

The woman on the step turned to look at her and the face that greeted Meg made her hesitate.

"Christine?" Meg asked again, this time more so from the shock of Christine's appearance then anything else. Christine looked like a walking corpse, a ghost in human clothes. Her smile was weak if you could even consider the crack her lips made a smile.

The blonde rushed up the steps in front of her house and dropped her bag of goods. She wrapped her arms around her friend only to get another surprise, her friend was not there. Christine was as thin as a post, not even enough meat on her bones to keep her gown in its proper place. She pulled back to look at her friends face, Christine spoke but Meg could not even believe that the voice that spoke was hers.

"Meg… I am so glad you are home. I am so glad you are here… I thought… I thought I might have had the wrong home. I feared you had misled me."

Meg put her hand on her friends arms, "I'd be a right sinner if I pulled a nasty trick like that. Quickly now, in with you before you catch your death." Meg managed to get the door open and then ushered Christine inside. She searched frantically about.

Meg was so happy to see her friend, but this was not the place Christine should be, not at all. If Erik found out she had returned… Meg couldn't bring herself to think about it. Meg needed to notify her mother, "Is that your carriage outside?" Meg asked.

"Yes… for now." Christine said cryptically.

"Would he fancy running a message for me to my mother? I think she would love to know you have come to visit."

Christine gave a much more genuine smile, "I am sure he would not mind at all. Write it quickly and give him this along with the directions."

Meg took the franc from Christine's thin fingers and then rushed to the kitchen. She must tell her mother, if Erik comes home to Christine… Meg pushed it from her mind.

She finished her note and rushed out to the driver and gave him the directions. The man nodded and off he went. Meg ran back inside and shut the door behind her. She quickly steered Christine away from the main room and into the kitchen.

"What are you doing here Christine? You know I am always happy to see you but I thought perhaps you would be with Raoul some place exotic. Why are you not touring, I thought you wanted to go over to the Americas."

Christine looked at her friend with a face that was slowly fading into sadness. "Oh Meg…" she started, her hand came to her mouth and she trembled, "Christine, you are shaking like a leaf… please tell me what is wrong."

Christine looked up at her friend and managed to stifle the cries that had been close to breaking through, Christine stared off into nothing then, her eyes were hollow and Meg felt a shiver run up her spine at the sight of her.

"I left him." Was all Christine managed to get out and then even that was almost inaudible.

Meg stared at the girl who she used to share everything with, the girl who had been such a promising star and suddenly wasn't sure this was the same girl who had been rescued by the strapping young Viscount those two or three years ago.

"Christine, you must tell me everything." Meg said taking her friends bony hand.

Christine looked relieved for a moment and then took a deep breath, she started her story and the more she spoke the more Meg knew that Erik could never know she was here. If he ever found out what had happened Meg wasn't sure what he would do. The most important thing to do would be to get Christine to a room in the house and keep her in it until they could find another place for her to stay.

But surely they could not keep her prisoner and surely they could not keep one a secret from the other. Meg did not know what to do, she would have to wait for her mother to return and hope she got home before Erik decided to show up.

**M**adam Giry reluctantly looked through the racks of the dusty costumes; it was hard to see since she only had candles to serve as her light. She stood next to the large table in the far back of the Opera Populaire. This had been her job for the last two years. Erik had offered to pay for food and other such things if she helped him to search the Opera for anything that he might wish to salvage.

The building was condemned, it was dangerous to be in here, after the fire no one had bothered to try and rebuild. Thieves and raids had cleared everything out and street urchins that needed to make a few extra francs. For the past two years at the request of Erik Madam Giry came here everyday and rummaged through the things that had been left over from the fire.

The first three months of this awful task had been held far down below in Erik's lair. Madam Giry was to search through the wreckage of his things. There were only certain things he truly wanted.

In the end Madam Giry had brought back most of his sketchbooks, all his musical notes he had made, and his architectural drafting's. She had also managed to find his music box with the monkey that played the cymbals. Erik had stressed the importance of this particular piece, and though it had taken a few hours of rummaging she had found it sitting perfectly out in the open in his personal chamber.

The only other things he had requested were his cloak, hat, clothes, and the rest of his masks. Everything else he had said could be remade. Madam Giry had then taken everything else and set it aflame in the center of the cave like domain. No one ever noticed the smoke.

Now Madam Giry had accompanied Erik to the Opera today with hopes that a musical instrument and a few musical sheets would remain. She had found the music sheets after only being in the theater a half hour, however finding a musical instrument that hadn't been damaged by the fire was near impossible.

She had waded through many halls, and rooms and such places but she found nothing. On her way back to the stage she had noticed a small black case wedged between a fallen beam and the wall. It took her awhile to dislodge it but she managed and quickly opened the case.

Inside was a violin, one that had very little damage. Erik could fix it in less then a week with the right tools. Madam Giry finally allowed a little smile to escape her lips. She closed the case and quickly relocated where she had left Erik.

This was one of the few occasions that Erik had actually come with her, he saw at a large drafting table searching vey slowly through pages upon pages of music.

"I have found something." She said approaching the man who was hunched over the piles of papers.

He said nothing as his eyes scanned the music lines slowly. He looked like he could hear every part in his mind even though he was only reading the Cello part. He held up a hand for her to wait and she quietly did so. A few moments later he crumbled something and tossed the paper to the floor.

"Let me see it." He said as Madame Giry came forward and set the leather box on the large table. He opened it and Madame Giry waited with anticipation. Erik's fingers slid over the instrument, plucked at a string and then looked at the broken neck.

"This will do." He said closing the lied, snapping the locks down tightly and gently handing the case back to Madame Giry.

"You may go home now if you like Nettie." He said returning to his original state.

Madame Giry bowed slightly and turned to go, "Take the back way out again, no need in arousing suspicion." Erik said in a tone that almost sounded like he was talking to himself.

Upon her way out she found a man waiting with a letter, he looked at her anxiously, as if he had been waiting awhile.

"Madame! Oh Madame!" The man called to her, she looked behind her to make sure he wasn't talking to someone other then her. But behind her was empty and no one moved in front of her. She grew tense but approached the man anyway.

"Yes Monsieur?" She asked trying to keep control of her voice.

"I was told by a young lady that I was to deliver this message to this location at this time to a woman fitting your description. Please, are you a Madame Giry?"

"I am Monsieur." She said watching his face fill with relief.

The man handed her a note and Madame Giry quickly set down the case and opened the note.

_MAMA! _

_Christine is at the house, you must hurry and reach home before Erik! I do not know what to do! _

_Meg _

Madame Giry looked to the man with wide eyes, "Do you have a carriage Monsieur?"

"Oui Madame."

"You will take me home. Now!" Madame Giry ordered with out waiting to listen to the man's flabbergasted muttering. She climbed into his carriage and motioned for him to hurry. The man reluctantly did what he was told and soon they were off. She was racing against time now. Who knew how close this was going to be. All Madame Giry could hope for was that Meg thought of an idea. If not, hell would be upon their house tonight.

**C**hristine walked slowly through the house, she gazed about like she was in a dream. Everything seemed so old, so aged by time. The house was dark in general but with the dark wood that ran through it all she felt like she was in the belly of a monster. The house creaked and groaned as she moved about despite how slowly and light she walked.

"I have some candies if you would like some." Meg called from the kitchen. Christine glanced behind her only a moment to speak, "Yes. That would be grand." She called.

Upon entering the main sitting room Christine felt dizzy, it was like she had been in this house before. The darkness ate at her soul, and the cold chill in the air reminded her of a certain Phantom's lair.

"How long has your mother owned this house?" Christine asked.

"Since she was a girl, it was her families home." Meg said.

"I thought she came to Paris on her own to study with the ballet?" Christine replied as she still tried to adjust to using her voice again.

There was a brief silence and then Meg replied, "Right but her family eventually moved here after she was accepted into the company."

Christine did not reply to this, in fact most would think she hadn't even heard the comment, for at that moment her eyes had grown wide, her mouth had dropped open and she had frozen like a snake in the grass.

On the mantle piece, staring back at her with cold angry eyes was a monkey in a turban, with little gold cymbals resting in his hands. His teeth were bared into a smile that could have been attractive if Christine didn't feel like the eyes screamed rage towards her.

The red vest was like blood on his fur and his cymbals like round slicing knives.

Christine could not look away from the ugly thing, with out truly understanding how she had moved she was before it and she reached up and her finger gently touched one of the cymbals. The monkey started to play an eerie tune and Christine felt herself grow dizzy.

"Masquerade." She whispered in a shaky voice. She could hear his voice singing into her ear, she could see the image of him staring at the monkey while it played. She saw herself crossing to him and handing him the ring.

"_Christine I love you." _He had sung it so softly that it was almost like a whisper.

"_You alone can make my song take flight. It's over now the music of the night." _

"Its over…" Christine whispered to herself as she felt a shiver run up her spine. A hand came to rest softly on her shoulder and she jumped as she spun around. Her heart was in her throat. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Meg.

Her eyes strayed to the monkey and Christine moved away from it, "Mother found it in the wreckage. She brought it home and placed it there… I am not sure why." Meg said.

Christine felt like there was something Meg was not telling her, but she did dig into it. Anything that had to do with that man made Christine cringe and not just because he had come so very close to destroying everything Christine had lived for. But because she had made a choice and it hadn't been him. She hated to admit it to herself but there had been many an occasion she had wondered what her life would have been like had she allowed her self to disappear into the phantom's dark embrace.

She pushed the thought away for she knew thoughts like that would only take her down the wrong path. The Phantom, nothing more then a cruel man, had taught her much, but he had never truly explained why he was so obsessed with her voice.

He claimed to love her, but when had that occurred? He had never spoken of love to her before. Not until Raoul came forward and made advances did the Phantom ever tighten his grip so strongly.

For the first two or three months after she had left with Raoul Christine had held fear, she did not do many things for fear the Angel of Music would punish her for her misbehavior.

Only after several months of reassurance from Raoul did she relax enough to go out on the town at night, to have a small sip of Champaign, to speak to other men openly. She did not go to bed early anymore, she did not watch what she ate, she did not practice her singing as often as she should have and she did not really focus on her posture or the position of her jaw.

She admitted that she had grown talented because of her teacher, but she had also been put through rigorous training under his hand. Some nights he would keep her up till the next morning making her practice a scale or aria over and over. Sometimes she would lose her voice all together and have to drink hot water and lemon, a drink she despised with a passion.

And then the times she was late to ballet rehearsal because of the Phantom and his tedious perfectionism. But even though Christine had hated the training she had become one of the most talented singers in all of France.

"Christine?" Meg's soft voice pulled her from the thoughts she had been thinking and she looked at her friend with a small smile. "May I rest until your mother returns?"

Meg sighed in relief, "I will show you the way."

Christine followed Meg down the hall, she looked up through the wooden railing and spoke, "Do you and your mother reside upstairs?"

"Mother and I share a room. The floor is not safe up there. We never go up there for fear of falling through the floor."

Christine found that odd but didn't question her friend, when they reached the back of the house Christine found that the temperature had raised to a comfortable degree.

"There are two fire places back here, we use most of the wood we get to keep them burning. The main room and kitchen are freezing but you will be warm when you sleep and that is what counts."

Christine nodded and when they finally reached the very end of the hall Meg motioned to her right. "This will be your room. If you need anything please let me know." Christine nodded and started to walk in before Meg gently touched her arm, "Please get some rest." Christine smiled and entered the room, she shut the door behind her and Meg instantly rushed away.

She grabbed a key from the kitchen and rushed up stairs, when she reached the top she moved as lightly as she could to keep the floor from creaking. She reached Erik's door and locked it, she waited a moment and then turned and headed back downstairs.


	3. Into the Storm

Chapter Two

Into the Storm

**M**adame Giry rushed from the carriage and into the house; she swept into the main room to find Meg by the fire trying to get it lit.

"Where?" Madame Giry asked.

"The guest room." Meg replied.

Madame Giry rushed down the back halls and Meg quickly jumped up and hurried after her.

"She needed rest." Meg whispered quietly.

The elder woman did not hesitate at the door, she opened it slowly and entered to find Christine asleep on the bed. Her chest rose and fell so slowly that Madame Giry could hardly tell she was breathing.

"My God, what has happened to her?" Madame whispered as she looked upon the woman before her. No, though many would consider Christine a woman now that she was married, Madame Giry would always picture her as the little child who had clung to her skirts when she first came to the Opera.

"She left Raoul mother. She has been through horrors and had no place to go. She came here for help. She is sick." Meg said.

Madame Giry slowly approached the sleeping girl before her and saw how like death she looked. Her beauty had faded into nothing but skin and bones; her life had been sucked out of her. Madame Giry had found it hard to look away from her. She managed to pull herself away from this broken angel and ushered Meg from the room.

She turned and pulled from her pouch at her side a key; she locked the door and then made the sign of the cross over her chest. She then headed down the hall and into the living room. She exstinguished all the lights that Meg had lit for Christine and then rigidly strode into the kitchen.

"Quickly Meg, the curtains!" Madame Giry said motioning to the windows over the counters.

"What shall we do mother. Ever since she left Erik has been in a cruel rage. If he finds her he will take her."

Madame Giry finally put out the last light and they soon found themselves in the dark. She crossed to the lamp on the table and turned the small key, which allowed the wick to emerge. Meg lit the lamp and then they waited for a moment, all was silent in the house, not a sound was made. Even their own breathing was not heard.

Finally after a moment Madame Giry spoke, "We can do nothing." She whispered in defeat.

"Mother!" Meg protested in a voice just above a whisper.

"Hush Meg. Please listen to me."

Meg sat down in one of the chairs with a stubborn thump and crossed her arms, "Even if we manage to find a place to move her to Erik will eventually find out she is here."

"How mother, how could he know?" Meg asked; the disbelief in her voice was evident.

"Erik may be a man, but he is no fool. If one thing is out of place he will know. When he comes here he will sense the difference. He is flesh and blood Meg but he is not of this world."

"What can we do? Mother there must be something." Meg asked; the anxiety that was shooting through her was evident as she squeezed her hands tighter around her arm.

"I do not know little one." She said softly. She sat at the table now, her face resting in her hands. Meg had never seen her so worried.

"Should we tell Christine?" Meg asked.

Madame Giry looked at her daughter and then sighed, "I suppose we must. It would be in her benefit to know he is here."

Meg watched as her mother's eyes searched the lamps ruddy flame. They had grown used to the darkness; that is how Erik liked it. And if he was happy they were happy because he took care of them well. But what would happen now that Christine had forced her way back into the picture?

Though she was happy to see her childhood friend she could not help but feel like Christine had come looking for trouble. Surely she did not think that returning to this city would be so easy as to start over. Surely she knew there was a chance Erik would find out and come looking for her.

Nothing was certain except for the fact that nothing was certain. In the next few hours everything was going to depend on how Christine handled the news, not only had she returned to the city that the Phantom still resided in, but she was staying in the same house as him and if he found her, there would be no escape.

**E**rik had finished filling his satchel full of the musical scores that he had found interest in. He had also managed to find a few pages that hadn't been destroyed of his last big work. _Don Juan Triumphant._

He quickly pulled his cloak around himself being sure to cover his face and then placed a fedora atop his head and tilting it slightly over his deformed eye; he made his way out of the theatre.

It took him only minutes to exit the debris of the old Opera house and though he felt no guilt for what he had done only two years ago he took one last look at it before he started on the long walk to his house.

It was strange walking among the people of this city after so many years of hiding from them. But he found that if he walked at night, most didn't think twice about his hidden face. It was cool in the evenings, and any passer by would think little of a man who was simply protecting his nose and cheeks from the cold.

He rounded a corner and stopped when he saw a familiar family crest. His heart hammered at the site of a messenger boy talking to a man in a police outfit. Erik ducked into the shadows and moved silently.

He managed to pick up the end of the conversation and tried to keep his self from making a noise, "I am looking for the residence of the Giry household." The boy said.

"Oh yes, well I am not sure where she would be staying now, she used to reside in the Opera house with her daughter. Now where they reside is a mystery."

"I cannot return to my Lord until I deliver this message." The young boy said with regret.

"Perhaps the post office can help you. They must deliver mail yes?"

"I have my orders to not allow anyone but myself to deliver this letter. It is of the up most importance that only she read it."

Erik saw this moment as his chance, he emerged from the shadows and slowly strolled down the sidewalk just as the boy stomped his foot, "I shall never find this Giry woman!"

Erik smirked, perfect timing, "Excuse me dear boy, did you say you are looking for a Madame Giry?"

"Indeed I am Monsieur. Perhaps you could offer some assistance?"

Erik eyed the police officer who was eying him right back, he must play his cards right.

"I am afraid I can do little to help, I am very sick and the cold offends my throat and nose. I would be little help showing you the way."

"Perhaps just some directions then Monsieur?"

Erik acted like he was thinking and then chuckled, "Of course, you follow this road threw the narrows of Paris and then turn when you see a street with no lamp posts lit. They are at the very end on the right." Erik said starting to move off.

"Thank you Monsieur!" The boy said as he turned his horse and trotted down the street.

"Excuse me Monsieur, I was just hoping to catch your name again?" The policeman asked as Erik started to step back into the shadows, "I don't believe I gave it good sir." The policeman followed the strange man into the shadows but when he looked for the cloaked figure he found the man was gone.

**E**rik moved quickly over the rooftops as he followed the boy who rushed into the night. He seemed to be in a hurry to get home, for whatever reason Erik did not care. He only wanted to see the contents of that letter.

The family crest that was stitched into the saddle of the old mare was none other then that insolent boy that had absconded with Erik's Angel.

"Raoul." Erik whispered with venom.

Lightning ripped like claws across the dark clouds that were forming and then a rumble of thunder came from the distance. The boy looked to the sky and kicked the horse to make it move faster.

Erik quickened his pace and managed by some hand of fate to cut the boy off. He didn't hesitate as he saw the boy was approaching fast. He jumped from his perch and landed in a flurry of cloth before the boy whose horse in shock reared and cried out.

"Whoa girl!" The boy cried as he pulled on the reins.

Once the horses settled down enough for the boy to look away from the task of reeling the beast in he turned to look at the dark silhouette that stood before him.

"Be out of my way stranger. I have an important message to deliver and I will not be stopped by the likes of you!"

Erik hid a chuckle and then using his hands flung his cloak behind him, "You will give that letter to me. I shall deliver it to the Giry household."

"I shall do no such thing. I have unyielding orders from my Lord to hand deliver it only to her."

"I am afraid your orders will have to wait then. The Giry's have left the city for the time and they have left me in charge of their affairs. Tis a shame, you seem in a hurry to be home."

The boy gave him a puzzled looked and then sneered, "You expect me to believe you are the caretaker of the Giry's affairs? A man who emerges from the shadows, a man who demands claim for things that are not his? You, my dark friend, are nothing but a common thief."

"Fifty Francs will come to you if you give me that letter." Erik said.

This made the boy hesitate; he stared at the man before him with curious eyes and then seemed to fall from the illusion of trust that Erik was presenting.

"I have been ordered to deliver this letter…"

"And I have been ordered to protect the Giry's… 100 francs for that letter boy."

This statement truly seemed to confuse the boy who looked to his satchel and then back at Erik. He held his reigns steady as he considered.

"Why would the Giry's need protecting?" The boy asked.

"Your _Lord_ tells you very little and yet demands so much. Perhaps you have not heard the tale of the Phantom of the Opera? Your _Lord _had a rather hard time fighting the devil off. The Giry's helped him, but the Phantom is still missing. A demon like none other, surely a man would want anyone who tried to help destroy him to suffer?"

The boy seemed to realize something and then glanced down into the dark streets that lay before him. Erik could feel the boy's desire to leave this darkness; he could sense the boy's urge to return home.

"150 francs is my final offer. You can keep it all and I will make sure Madame Giry compliments you in the letter she will inevitably write back."

This seemed to put the rest of the boy's worries away; he slowly reached into his satchel and pulled from it a long thin piece of paper. He looked at it in the gloom of the streets around him and then held it out. He pushed his horse forward until Erik was standing right next to him, "If she does not say that I hand delivered the letter I will lose my post. As much as I hate being the messenger to a bunch of rich philanderers, I need the money. My mother is sick."

Erik nodded once and reached into his pocket to retrieve the said amount, "You have my word. I will tell Madame Giry to praise you like none other."

The boy nodded once as he reluctantly took the money and then turned on his horse, he gave one last look over his shoulder and then rode away into the night.

Erik moved from his current position and climbed the side of a near by building, once he reached the top he found a corner hidden in shadows and then pulled from his cloak a lock of steel, a candle, and a flint from his own satchel and quickly made a spark to like the candle.

He ripped open the letter and began to read.

_Madame Giry, _

_I write you this letter to inform you of the sudden and complete disappearance of the countess of Changy. To where she has disappeared I do not know. Your household is one of two places she could possibly be. I fear for her stability, in the last two years circumstances that neither she nor I could prevent have led to her current state of mind. She has left me in what I assume is an endeavor to regain her mental immovability. I did not follow her in hopes that spending a few weeks away will help her to recover from her depressive state. Please write me back if Christine has indeed come to land in your caring hands. I advise the up most discretion for fear of rumors confirming what others have already guessed. _

_Sincerely yours, _

_The Vicomte Of Changy _

Erik let the letter fall from his hands, "Christine." He whispered in utter shock. His head snapped towards the direction of his house and he slowly stood. He rushed forward stepping on the candle and breaking it in half, the letter lay there on the roof as if it were a leaf that the wind had forgotten.

**C**hristine awoke feeling no better rested then before, she could barely lift her body as she tried to sit up. She felt a presence in the room and looked around to see Madame Giry sitting in the corner with a lamp resting beside her.

"Hello Christine." She said as she stood from her chair.

"Hello Madame." Christine replied in a soft tone.

"I may still think of you as a child but you are indeed a woman, with woman like problems. You may call me by my name. Antoinette. If you so choose to."

Christine reluctantly nodded and tried to move from the bed, "You should continue to rest child. Much must have happened if you have come all this way just to see me."

The older woman approached and then sat down next to Christine on the bed, "You look sickly my child. Perhaps you have caught a cold?"

Christine closed her eyes as the woman gently removed hair from her face, "I am not sick so to speak. But I did come to you for help. I am not well in being, how this has effected me I am sure you can see."

Madame Giry nodded in agreement and then peered into the girl's down cast face.

"What must be so bad that it has caused such a horrible sadness to befall you?" Madame Giry asked in a kind voice.

"I do not wish to speak of it. It causes me great pain, still now after two years. I need some time."

"So you have come here to hide from your pain?"

"I…" Christine did not know what to say to that.

"Child, there is much pain in this life, you suffered great pain in early years with the loss of your father. Then again when you were forced to condemn one man in order to save the life of another. Pain has followed you and drank the sweet nectar of culpability from your veins. What then has happened that could be worse?"

Christine looked to the woman as tears filled her eyes. "I was with child." She whispered.

Madame Giry thought on that comment a moment before she realized what Christine meant, "He was born as silent as the grave and as still as the sculpted angels that watch over my father's tomb. And in his still form I saw a death that I could not prevent. Once I realized he was stillborn I felt the music not just leave me, but also leave my soul. I couldn't look Raoul in the face, nor could I sing to myself for comfort. The silence between Raoul and I has been unbearable. I needed to escape. And I knew I could not make it to my father's cottage. I had no where to go."

"Fate is not your friend child. Terrible things have occurred during at time when bliss should be all you know. I hate to be the barer of further misfortune but even now among friends you are in danger."

Christine raised her head suddenly to stare at the woman who now stood, "Danger? From what?" Christine asked.

Madame Giry stood and held her hand out to the confused looking girl; Christine took it and with help managed to stand.

"Come to the kitchen, we shall eat, there is much you need to know."

**M**adame Giry gave Christine a small plate with some slices of bread and some jam. "You must eat something child. You should not hear this story on an empty stomach."

Christine reluctantly picked up a piece and took a small bite. She set the bread down and looked to Meg, "Are you going to explain?"

"I think mother would be better suited to telling this story."

Christine looked to Madame who sighed and sat down across from Christine.

"When I was a young girl I was taken to a fair. The people who worked there were cruel and earthy. They were Gypsies. I saw many disturbing things that night but none worse then the atrocities they committed against a young boy. He was only twelve at the time but had known little of life except for the pain they gave to him. I rescued him from the cage that the Gypsies kept him in and took him to the Opera house in an attempt to hide him from the beatings and malicious treatment he was being forced to endure."

Christine could not take her eyes away from the woman, though she was sure she knew the answer she had to ask to be sure, "Who was this boy Madame?"

"His name… was Erik."

The silence then became deafening, Christine glanced anxiously between Meg and Madame Giry until finally she was forced to break the silence, "And is this the man who has put me in dangers way? Why would he wish harm against me?"

Madame Giry took Christine's fragile hand in her own and looked at the girl with such a calm Christine almost felt sick, "This man would never harm you Christine. This man, who has known little of life but its cruelties is… was… your Angel of Music."

Christine's lips parted in shock, her brow furrowed in lament, "You knew who he was? You knew who he was and where he was the whole time? And you said nothing?"

"Christine you must understand I thought that by letting him get close to you you would be able to tame him. You could help him as he helped you. I thought you could keep his desire to kill far below the surface. He would do anything for you. It worked Christine, in the end he allowed Raoul to live because his love for you allowed him to let you be happy."

Christine said nothing to this comment; she sat there digesting the new information that had been given to her.

"Where is he now?" Christine asked after a long tense silence.

"Before the night of the fire I had agreed that if anything should happen and Erik was in need of escape I would meet him here and we would plan his getaway together. As it turned out the Police and everyone else thought Erik had been killed in the fire. They did not search for him long so the need to escape was halted. We have been here ever since."

"When did Meg found out all of this?"

The blonde girl popped in quickly, "Mother informed me the night of the fire after she instructed me to meet her here. Christine, I've met Erik and he is wonderful. His anger and sadness have led him astray many times but he is indeed a good man. Erik would never…"

"Stop saying his name." Christine said softly.

"Why do you fear his name? Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, Christine please; he is not someone to be afraid of. I have spent time with him… he is not…"

"Not what Meg? A murderer? A merciless killer? A cruel tyrant? He dictated my life for eight years. And as much as I was blessed to be chosen to sing his music I felt like it was also a curse."

Lightning lit up the house and a heavy thunder rumble came behind it, "I cannot stay here." Christine said as she stood, "I must never fall into his grasp again."

"Christine no! You mustn't leave, you are not well and to much excitement may cause you problems!"

Christine did not hesitate; she rushed out the front door as she threw her cloak around her. She did not see if they followed and at this point she did not care. She needed to be as far away from them as she could. She needed time to think, to sort things out.

If Madame Giry knew the entire time did that mean that she also knew of Erik's plan to destroy the Opera, did she know of his plan to take Christine and kill Raoul? Did she help him?

And now that Christine thought about it wasn't Madame Giry always the one to deliver letters from the Phantom to the people he wished to order about? She had done his dirty work for him, and she had never warned a soul. What did she see in Erik that no one else ever did? How could she still help the man who had destroyed so many lives, who had taken so much and never given a second thought to the outcome of his actions?

The wind had finally turned into a gusty wall of air, and rain splattered down in torrents. Lightning lit up the world around her for mere seconds before she was plunged back into the dark. She could not see where she was going nor did she care at this point.

She had to escape the darkness but to do so she would have to find her way through the night, through the storm through the blackest of black….

Something caught her arm and Christine lost her balance and was thrown forward.

She tried to drop to her knees but all to soon realized that there wasn't any ground below her. She was falling into the blackness just like in her dream.

She closed her eyes and screamed. Then she waited because she never hit the ground. She opened her eyes and looked up, a hand was holding her wrist. It was a darkly clad figure. He pulled her up and Christine looked down, it was a rather large and rather deep reservoir below her. Surely she would have broken her head or neck had she fallen. The figured pulled her up the rest of the way and then tossed her to the ground. She landed with a loud huff and then turned to see the figure standing over her.

"Audacious girl! Running off into a storm! You are foolish and juvenile."

"Who be you to call me such things! You should have let me fall! My life is not worth the pain it has caused me!" She called back through the storm.

The man to Christine's surprise started to laugh, a bitter and angry laugh, she did not understand. Not until she heard his next few words.

"_Insolent girl so young and righteous,_

_Surely you are joking?_

_Pitiful girl whose long since left me,_

_Surely you do know me!"_

"Angel!" Christine gasped as she pushed her self back, the melody alone would have told her who she was facing, but it was the tone of his voice as he sung which truly told her. His malice, his anger, his cruel tone all fit into the melody as it did the first time he had ever sang it to her.

"You say I do not understand the pain that life has caused you! Rethink your words young beauty because I know the pain of life better then anyone!"

Christine had to get away but she was too weak, she could barely stand. She had had so little energy to begin with let alone after running so far so quickly. Her body had not had proper nourishment for a long time and she was nothing but bones. Christine might as well allow him to finish her now for the road to recovery would take longer then two years.

"Don't you run away from me!" Erik bellowed as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him. She felt the tears in her eyes and suddenly dizziness came over her.

Erik's scornful face was replaced instantly by shock, "Christine… your face." He whispered, before she could respond the blackness claimed her and nothing was heard after that.


	4. The Stages of Planning

Chapter Three

The Stages of Planning

**M**adame Giry had been pacing the floor all night as the storm raged outside. She recalled the image of Christine rushing out the door, and then the shadow that had disappeared into the night after her.

Meg had gasped and pointed, "Mother! It's Erik!"

"Let us pray he has no ill intent." Was all she managed to say as she continued to pace.

Now they waited, it had been an hour and still no sign of Christine or Erik, the storm made Madame Giry nervous, any thing could happen in this weather and since this house was not in a very good side of the city who knew what problems could befall Christine.

Thieves, rapists, wild dogs, drunken men, beggars, and more waited around every corner. That is why Erik chose this house, as it had sat abandoned it was in the worst part of town and the police never came down this way.

Meg sat next to the now blazing fire, most of the lamps had been lit, all the candles sat ablaze and Madame Giry still paced. Damn Erik and his rules about the light. Madame Giry had once understood his hatred for light when there was a mirror or picture with glass in front of it. The man hated his reflection with a passion.

But there was no excuse for the darkness now, Madame Giry and Meg had removed all the mirrors and glass and other such reflective surfaces long ago. The house was all but gutted in actuality. She may have to stay in this horribly gruesome house but she was through with putting up with Erik's temper tantrums.

Suddenly the front door burst open and there stood a soaking wet Erik and Christine. Erik carried the now unconscious girl, and Madame Giry gasped at the sight. Not just of Christine in the man's arms unconscious and bruised up but of Erik and the large red spot on his vest.

"What in Hell happened?" Madame Giry inquired as Erik instantly marched forward taking Christine up the stairs.

Meg trailed behind Madame Giry who trailed behind Erik who was on a mission, "The stubborn little brat ran into the reservoir. At least fifteen feet down, she would be dead had I not caught her."

"What happened to you?" Meg asked looking at the bloodstain.

"I was jumped. They wanted what ever money I had and Christine."

"Where are they now?" Meg asked.

"I threw the dead ones into the reservoir. The one that lived won't say a word to anyone anymore."

Erik lay Christine down on his bed and started to strip her, "EH! EH!" Madame Giry barked in protest, "I shall undress the girl, you go with Meg and let her bandage you up."

Erik did not move from the girl's side at first, but Madame Giry pointed her finger with a stern stomp of her foot, "OUT!" She all but shouted.

Erik finally turned to go but gave one last look back at the unconscious girl as Meg pulled him from the room.

**E**rik hated playing the waiting game; surely it would not take this long to remove the clothes from Christine. Erik had done it before in less then a minute. He smiled evilly at the image and then was pulled back from his thoughts do to a sharp pain.

"Well if you stop slouching this won't hurt as bad." Meg bit.

Reluctantly Erik sat up straight and the chunk of glass that had been in his side slid right out from between his ribs. "You and Christine are lucky you didn't get yourselves killed running into the storm like that. It's plain stupidity." Meg protested.

"You sound just like your mother." Erik said.

That comment made Meg fall into silent.

"You are much like she was at your age." Meg nodded a little but said nothing else.

Erik could see he was not going to get much conversation out of her tonight. Normally it was the other way around, Meg was a curious girl full of questions and he often had trouble keeping his temper with her. She asked questions about everything, about music, and literature, and art. Erik had once prayed for the day when Meg Giry could answer her own questions. Now he wished she would just say something.

He wanted to talk to keep his mind off of the girl upstairs; Erik had intended to scare the girl, to make her fear him as she once did. Not to mention his concern for the girl had been replaced by annoyance once she was no longer in harms way. But upon pulling her close and seeing Christine's face he could not believe what he saw. A skeleton stared back at him.

His Christine looked half starved! She looked like she hadn't been taken care of, his hair all knotted, her skin pale and blotchy. Her eyes sunken and dead. Erik's heart had stopped in that moment of seeing her before she passed out. And now he ached to fix what ever had caused her to have such a horrible state of being.

They both looked up then at the sound of someone entering the room, "Mother, will Christine be alright?" Meg asked with worry.

"I cannot say with out the advise of a doctor. I know some herbs that could help her but we do not have them here nor do they have the items in the shops on this side of town."

"I can go tomorrow where ever is needed. I will cross Paris if I must." Meg said looking to her mother for a sign of hope.

"We shall worry about it in the morning… you and I must rest. Erik, you may go and see her if you like but I will be waiting for you to come back down stairs and into the guest room."

Erik was about to protest but Madame Giry cut him off, "Whether you like it or not she is a married woman Erik and I will not have her virtue questioned because I was irresponsible with her."

Erik sat in silence at this statement and then pulled from his boot a white letter, "Her virtue is already in question Nettie. You have no fear from me." He slammed the letter down on the table in front of her and stood just as Meg had finished wrapping his chest wound.

"Good night Antoinette."

He left with out another word and they heard him climb the stairs. They eyed the letter and then finally Meg took it up and read it out loud for her and her mother to hear. From the sounds of it Christine was losing her mind and it wasn't just Raoul who noticed.

**E**rik stood over the bed and stared at the ghostly figure before him. His Angel of music had turned to ash. He sank to his knees and took hold of her hand, from his eyes tears streamed.

"Oh Christine. My Christine!" He silently cried.

He stroked her hair and brushed his lips against her hand and in his own way silently prayed for her recovery. Everyone had always seen him as the Devil's child or the Phantom of the Opera, a monster who was evil and disfigured and unholy. Only she had ever seen him as an angel of music. Only she had ever seen his beauty and his abilities.

If he had known of her physical state when he caught her perhaps he wouldn't have been so cruel with her. But he had been shocked to discover her return, shocked to realize she would be so close to him now. He wanted her to sing for him, it had been so long since he had heard her voice. Only she could calm him, her voice and her voice alone could bring his inner fire to it's full heat.

Only she had ever kissed him, and only she had ever given her body and mind so completely to him. No matter how she hurt him, how she betrayed him, he would always love her and he would always come back to her should she need him.

She was his angel of music as he was forever her guardian for she was also his savior. What would happen when she woke to find him here? How would he have to treat her now that she was married?

_Why treat her any differently? _Came the voice from his mind.

**Why treat her the same? It didn't work before? And she is no longer my student.**

_She could be. You could seduce her again, take her under your wing, and make her your diva._

**That is not the life she wants it never was and never will be. She wanted to be married, to have children. **

_She did what Raoul wanted; use that to your advantage. Offer her what she truly wants. Fame, glory, the stage! Music is her true master and you are the music. _

**I have no music left, what I write now is wretched in even my best moods, I can write nothing. I have no inspiration. **

_Your inspiration is right in front of you. She alone can make your songs take flight! Let her be your guide to make the music of the night. _

**I cannot. Not anymore, I have not the strength, and I know the outcome. She will not have me ever. She will not love me ever… she will see me as nothing but a monster. **

_Take her mind! Take her soul! Raoul is out of her reach for now and as long as you keep him that way you have a chance to take her! You have the chance to break down her defenses and make her obey you again! _

**I could never force her… I want her to be happy, I want her happiness first and for most. **

_Listen to you! You are pathetic and weak, putting others before your own needs and wants. You gave Raoul a chance, you let him have her and look what has become of her! She isn't even a shell of the woman she was when she left you! She looks like death and moves like a ghost! He destroyed your beautiful angel and now you have a chance to prove how much better then him you are! _

Erik looked up at that thought, would it be possible to prove that he was more worthy then Raoul? Would it be possible to show her how much he truly cared, show her how cruel and yet loving he could really be?

She moaned and her brow furrowed, a coughing fit followed and Erik tensed. He could do nothing to easer her suffering. Nothing except sing, would his music still have the same effect? Or would it not help at all? Only one way to find out.

Erik cleared his throat and sat next to her sleeping form on the bed. He pulled the covers tightly around her, and then he moved the hair from her face and gently brushed her cheek with his hand.

_No one would listen  
>No one but you<br>Heard as the outcast hears._

_Shamed into solitude  
>Shunned by the multitude<br>I learned to listen  
>In my dark, my heart heard music.<em>

_I longed to teach the world  
>Rise up and reach the world<br>No one would listen  
>I alone could hear the music<em>

_Then at last, a voice in the gloom  
>Seemed to cry "I hear you;<br>I hear your fears,  
>Your torment and your tears."<em>

_You saw my loneliness  
>Shared in my emptiness<br>No one would listen  
>No one but you<br>Heard as the outcast hears_

_No one would listen  
>No one but you<br>Heard as the outcast hears..._

Christine's head groggily moved and from her lips the most beautiful thing spouted, "Erik." It was hardly audible, and perhaps he had misheard her, after all it was just a murmur. But in that moment Erik's tears had slowly ceased, his sobs turned to soft laughs of joy. He knew she would be all right and all because of his song.

Erik felt like he was alive again, he felt like his soul had a purpose. Rising from beside his sleeping angel he walked to the desk at the far side of the room and took up a pen and paper. It had not been long since he had tried to write something, anything at all. However it had been a long time since he had written anything worth keeping.

He placed his pen in the ink and then attacked the paper with a vicious smirk, "Let my music begin." He whispered.

**E**rick sat on the table with Meg and Madame Giry; it had been a few hours now that Christine lay sleeping. Erik had written for quite a few of those hours before he descended the stairs and woke the two women from their restless sleep.

He had told them to meet him in the kitchen in ten minutes but they met him in five. He smirked at them with intentions they had yet to know of.

"We shall take her away from here. You told me once your grandfather left you a house in the country?" Erik asked looking at Madame Giry.

"He did… but Erik… why take her away? Surely she will not want to go now that she knows you are here."

Erik leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, "This house is fine for the three of us in good health, but she is sick and very weak. This drafty house, all broken and rotted will surely be the death of her. We will keep her in bed until she is strong enough to make the journey and then we shall leave. I will sell this house to the city and with that money plus the money I already have we can easily last out there as long as we need until she is ready to return. As for her refusing to go once she is made aware of my presence, allow me to talk to her privately once she wakes. I will ensure she understands I mean her no harm. But I do need you, Nettie, to reassure her that relocating is in her best interest."

Madame Giry nodded and Meg stared off into space, "Erik there is something you need to know." Meg started. But before she could finish a scream ripped through the house.

**M**adame Giry shook the girl gently awake as she thrashed in the bed, "No! DO NOT TAKE HIM PLEASE! GOD NO!" Christine screamed.

"CHILD! CHILD WAKE UP!" Madame Giry yelled.

Christine's eyes shot open and she looked around her in shock, "Oh Antoinette." She buried her face into the woman's chest and sobbed.

"Your dreams are so vivid, come now do not be so frightened. You should not allow such silly things as these dreams to make you look so childish."

Christine pulled back and looked at her, "Every night I dream of the child, of the child that I…" before Christine could finish the lamp in the corner was slowly turned up. She glanced nervously towards the light expecting Meg to be there but to her horror it was not Meg but the phantom that glanced towards her.

Christine tugged the covers up and spoke quickly, "What are you doing here?"

"He saved your life child. You owe him your gratitude." Madame Giry said softly.

Christine tried to recall what had happened only hours ago but all she could recall was rain and darkness and Erik yelling at her.

"He wants to speak with you. I suggest you listen to what he has to say. It could help you both." Madame Giry added.

"Please don't make me talk to him. His current state is partially my doing. I cannot face the damage that I have done."

To what Christine meant by this comment Madame Giry did not know, but she figured soon enough the girl would tell her the entire story. Only bits and pieces had come fourth so far, some of it Meg knew and some Madame Giry knew but they had yet to create a full story.

"My child, as a woman you must come to terms with the decisions you have made, you must come to realize that through out your life you will have to face every single choice you have made and have the bravery to say it was the right thing to do."

Madame Giry hugged her once and then stood, she walked to the door and Christine watched her go. She looked away as the last sliver of light from the hall disappeared and she was left alone in the dark with the man she had so long ago shattered.

She did not look at him; she stared at the dimly lit ground and waited for the inevitable conversation.

"Why so silent mademoiselle? Have you nothing to say to your angel?"

Christine spoke then with a soft voice, a voice that could have been mistaken for kind had Erik not know her better. "Angel… or Erik?"

"Why not both?" he said placing his fingertips together in front of his face, his eyes stared at her through the mask he wore and she knew he was calculating, thinking twenty steps ahead. He wanted to make sure he won this game, what ever it was they were now playing.

"You cannot have me Erik. I do not belong to you anymore." Christine finally said.

"Do not talk to me as if I do not know the rules of this game." His voice held venom and Christine shut her eyes in nervous anticipation. "You are married, there for you are no longer accessible to me. I can do nothing to you now that you wear that cold ring on your skinny little finger."

Christine's eyes opened at that last comment and she glared at him from under her dark lashes. "Oh, so there is still some spirit left in that frail body of yours. You could have fooled everyone here the way you have been sniveling the last day or so."

"I have not sniveled." Christine barked back.

"Oh but you have. You have carried yourself around like a spoiled brat, whining for things that you can't have. Meg was very found of the idea of you falling down into that reservoir." Erik rebuked.

Christine shook her head, "Meg would never wish something like that."

"Perhaps not." He said.

"I hope you will enlighten me as to how you think I am spoiled."

"I suppose I could place a few examples onto the table, if that is what you really want."

Christine nodded and Erik sneered a very cruel sneer, "You asked for the angel of music and he came to you, then you asked the angel of music to take you and he did. When you grew tired of him you ran off to some petty little boy of fashion and in the cruelest of ways you demanded that the Angel let you leave with the man you suddenly loved. He let you even after everything he gave you; he returned the _one _thing you promised would belong to him. He gave you your freedom. And now you whine because the marriage you have to this foolish boy is not all that you dreamed. I have no pity on you… it was unwise to run off with him. You were only engaged three months, not a very long time to know someone."

Christine stared at the man in disbelief, "I chose you in the end… I would have gone with you to save his life." Christine said.

"But it would have been a lie…" this remark had been so quick and short it almost sounded like the snap of a whip.

Christine said nothing to this; Erik smirked knowing he had won. He changed the subject not wanting this to be the topic of their conversation. "Now, Christine, I have come to speak with you about some very important matters. I expect you to listen for I will only say it once." Christine nodded and then waited.

"You are sick and injured, Madame Giry has decided that it is in your best interest to move you to her grandfather's house in the country until you are well enough to be returned to the Vicomte."

"You… she wants to return me to Raoul?" Christine asked.

"She has made it clear once you are healthy and ready to return you will be sent on your way."

Christine looked down and started to shake a little, "And if I do not wish to go back?"

This made Erik pause; he had not expected her to not want to return at all. Madame Giry, Meg and himself all expected that this childish desire to runaway would eventually dissipate and Christine would want to return home to her husband.

What would Nettie do if the girl never wanted to return?

"Occording to a letter that your beloved Vicomte sent to Madame Giry, you disappeared with out a trace almost five days ago. He said you seemed unlike yourself and that he had no doubt of your return once you cleared your head from its instabilities."

Christine looked down and put a shaky hand to her eyes, "He does not know everything Erik. He assumes he knows what has wrong with me, but he knows less then all of you."

This was not what Erik had expected to hear, whether or not this bit or information satisfied him or made him even more curious of the girl's mindset he wasn't sure. Silence passed between them for what seemed like hours until Christine finally broke it with a sigh and a question. "Will you be there?"

"I will. But do not fear, I am currently working on a rather large project that will keep me busy most of your stay."

"Why are you with the Giry's?"

"I am sure you are aware of my and Madame Giry's relationship. She saved me as a boy and in return I have continued to protect her and her daughter. I have given them money and a place to stay and eventually when I start my own Opera I will give them work."

"You plan to open up an opera?" Christine asked with more excitement then she intended.

"It is one of my many plans yes. Why so interested?" he asked casually.

Christine caught herself and pulled back, "Why not be interested if something is interesting?"

"It will be very interesting… especially when I find my new star singer. I will have to find a Opera singer with a wide range and a very good acting base."

Christine felt her heart sink a little; she had no right to get excited because she would never be allowed to sing again. If she ever returned to Raoul his family would never let her return to the theater circuit. They had been kind enough to allow Raoul to marry someone of her statues. They would surely not allow her to continue on, a Vicomte simply could not marry a woman who was so far beneath his station if she was not willing to conform to the rules of the aristocracy.

"I wish you luck in that endeavor." Christine whispered, her heart was growing heavy again and she gently clutched at her chest to keep her heart steady.

"That is most kind of you Christine." She shivered; just the way her name rolled off his tongue still had enough power to affect her.

"Madame Giry wishes you to stay in bed for the rest of the week, once this week is over we will head for the country. Is there anything you require for now?"

Christine hesitated to ask anything of this man but perhaps Madame Giry had asked him to inquire about her needs, "Some hot tea perhaps?" Christine managed to say with a somewhat polite tone.

"Very well." He shut the door behind him as he left and Christine was left in the dark.

So Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, was a life long friend of Madame Giry and now Meg as well. When the fire had occurred the three of them had come to this abandoned house and using Erik's money probably bought it.

Christine couldn't believe it, she had been aware of the chance she would have of coming face to face with the Phantom again but never in one hundred years had she expected a circumstance quite as strange as this.

Erik had rescued her from the storm; Christine's own stupidity had caused the need to be rescued to arise. She needed to stop running head long into things. She used to try and avoid danger, now she seemed to seek it out. And what was to happen between her and Erik now that they were to apparently be living together? Christine had left Raoul to come and be around what she considered her family, and yet with them she found her way back into his arms.

Christine shook her head and sighed, she would have to take things one day at a time and hope to God that everything worked out. It seemed that Erik did not plan to try anything with her, and even if he did Christine was sure she could resist better then she had originally thought.

She was strong and she would prove it, to herself and to anyone who tried to tell her otherwise. Christine felt her heart beating quickly with heavy thuds. If Raoul knew how close Erik was, if he could see how well Christine was taking it, many questions would be brought up and once again Raoul or Erik would probably start something just for the sake of starting something.

What bothered Christine the most, and she knew it shouldn't bother her, was that Erik seemed disinterested in her. He seemed like he had finally moved on and was not going to try and win her back. What would wait for her now, who would be with her in the end? Raoul or the Giry's?

Christine could never love a murderer so turning to Erik for anything was out of the question. But could she really turn her back on him again if Raoul was not here to give her strength? Could she really resist his voice, his music, his passion, and his darkness if she had to face it alone?

The true question that Christine needed to find the answer to was why did she really truly come back? She did want to get away from Raoul, but leaving him completely after only two years of marriage seemed abrupt and selfish. The lost of her child had driven her close to madness and death. Perhaps that is what caused her to leave; the echoes of the passed had haunted her. But of all the places she could have gone to escape the passed Paris was the worst choice. Had she just justified it with the excuse of her father's cottage being to far away?

Christine was so confused she didn't even know what her really intentions had been. For now though she would settle with the idea that Raoul had been smothering her since the loss of her child and she needed time away. What ever her real fears were, the fears that she denied, the fears that she refused to recognize, they would come to her and when they did she would face them, come hell or high water, and she would win.

**R&R let me know what you think!**


	5. One Week

**A/N: So in the last chapter I am sure some of you probably noticed I used the song No one Would Listen. This song was cut from the original format of the 2004 movie. I enjoyed the song though it didn't really fit in with the rest of the movie so decided to add it in here. Disclaimer, not my lyrics, all that jazz, yadda, yadda it belongs to someone other then me. **

**I heard rumor the song was originally intended for the musical on stage but didn't make the cut and so Webber wanted to through it in the movie, apparently it didn't make the cut there either. I hope you are enjoying the story so far, I have many other stories I am still working on but it is hard to find inspiration. So for now here is chapter four, enjoy! **

**P.s. the song that Erik sings to Christine in here is by Nina Simone, it is called Ne me Quitte ( Don't leave me) performed in 1985 I think or something like that. I am not a song writer or lyricist. So any songs I put into this story will be from other artists but I will give credit were credit is due. The song was really long so I cut one of the verses. I will try to use older songs, personally I hate today's current music scene and prefer things between the years of 1920 and 1995. If you can think of any good songs and want me to try and fit it in here let me know, if I like the song I may find a place for it. **

Chapter Four

One Week

**C**hristine had tried to stay awake for the return of her tea but found her eyes growing heavy. Moments later she had been asleep. She was roused by the sound of her door opening and she managed to open her eyes to see a very worried looking Madame Giry gazing at her.

"Oh dear, you have a fever. I thought perhaps luck had been with you and the storm did not make you sick. You seemed much more aware last I saw you. Do not move."

Christine couldn't have if she tried, she coughed, sneezed, her body ached, and her head felt like a theatrical backdrop was being smashed into it. She could only moan weakly and fight to keep her eyes open. She heard murmurs but any coherent sentences merged into a superficial language she could not understand. Once again her eyes slid shut and darkness took her.

**M**adame Giry's expression had gone passed worry, she was now on the facial expression of dread, "Meg, please go tell Erik to come up here."

Madame Giry returned to Christine's side once meg had disappeared and dabbed the wet cloth across the girl's forehead. When Erik finally came to the doorway he seemed to hesitate before he entered.

"Erik, I must go with Meg into Paris to find the items that are required to help her. She is starved; heart broken, and now she had become ill with fever. If I do not get the herbs I need she will die."

Erik reached into his vest and pulled from it a large leather bag. "Take as much as you need, get everything she will require to get better. I suggest a robe of some kind as well, should she need to get out of bed she must be kept warm."

Madame Giry nodded and took the bag, she paused a moment and then looked to the Christine before she slowly glanced back to Erik. "If I could I would stay and look after the girl myself, but Meg will need help finding the herbs I am looking for. Erik, I need you to keep an eye on her."

The masked man's head snapped up to look at her, "You think I would leave her like this?"

"I know not what you would do anymore Erik. You have become intermittent. We won't be gone long. Keep trying to get her to drink, she is as stubborn in her sleep as she is awake."

Erik gave one stiff nod and Madame Giry swept passed him, Meg waited a moment and then looked to Erik, "I don't know if it will help, but when a girl was sick in the ballet we would speak to them, sing songs, tell them stories. Sometimes just hearing a soothing voice can help chase away a fever."

"Why tell me this?" Erik snapped for no reason.

"Who would have a more soothing voice then the Angel of Music." Meg gave a small smile before she hurried off after her mother. Erik watched her go before he shut the door and moved slowly to Christine's side.

She looked much worse then she did yesterday. Erik had studied medicine for a few years when he was younger. But the subject had bored him. The only real reason his interest had been peaked was because he had been curious if there was anything that could be done about his face. He had been met with disappointment. There was no operation that didn't have none fatal solutions. Most of the testing that had been done had proven to be terminal.

But all that study did little good for him now, he may know every part of the human body, but applying that to a sickly girl was pointless. All he could do was what Madame Giry had suggested. Try to get her to drink some liquids and then keep her warm and comfortable.

He could try singing to her again but nothing came to mind that she might find comforting. Erik patted her head with the damp cloth and then picked up the teacup filled with warm tea. He placed his hand under her head and lifted it up a little. She brought the tea to her lips and tried to get her to drink, but she lay limp in his hands.

Erik sighed and spoke softly, "Christine… Christine you must wake for me now. Christine you must drink." Her eyes barely opened but he tried again anyway. Still she would not drink. Erik felt his frustration growing. Meg's words echoed in his mind, "_Who would have a more soothing voice then the Angel of Music?"_

Erik set down the tea and positioned himself so that Christine would lie against him. He propped her up against his chest and then once again took up the tea, he cleared his throat and sang the first words that came to his mind.

_You have to forget  
>Everything can be forgotten<br>That is flying away already  
>Forget the time<br>The misunderstandings  
>And the time that was lost<br>Trying to understand how  
>These hours can be forgotten<br>Those that are killing sometimes  
>With whys that hurt like punches<br>The heart of happiness_

_I will offer you  
>Pearls made of rain<br>Coming from countries  
>Where it never storms<br>I will work the earth  
>Until I die<br>To cover your body  
>With gold and light<br>I will create a kingdom for you  
>Where love will be the king<br>Where love will be the law  
>Where you will be the queen<em>

_I will invent for you  
>Meaningless words<br>That you will understand  
>I will speak to you<br>Of these lovers  
>That we've seen twice<br>Their hearts embracing each other  
>I will tell you<br>The story of this king  
>Who died of not being able<br>To get to hold you_

_I won't cry anymore  
>I won't speak anymore<br>I will hide right there  
>To see you<br>Dancing and smiling  
>And to listen to you<br>Sing and then laugh  
>Let me become<br>The shadow of your shadow  
>The shadow of you hand<br>The shadow of your heart_

Erik couldn't help but smile when Christine's lips parted and she drank some of the warm tea. A very light shade of pink came to her cheeks and Erik felt relief, his rose was slowly coming back to life. He sang the song again softly and soon she had managed to drink all the tea.

She moaned a moment and then gave a sigh as she passed back into sleep. Erik removed her from his lap and extricated himself from the bed. He wished he could lay with her but the chance of her waking to him next to her could cause a shock that Christine could not afford to have right now.

Erik had thought that having her so close would make things difficult for him, though he felt the pain of his love having to be restrained he did not suffer the tension or excruciating desire he used to. Perhaps he truly was moving on from her?

He would always love her… but did he still want her? Erik grumbled and pushed it from his mind, he didn't have time for such simple thoughts. He walked to the large drafting desk in the corner and stared at the paper, he tried his hardest to focus but soon his mind drifted back to Christine and his eyes slowly swept back to her.

She lie there silent and almost peaceful looking, "You shall truly be the death of me." He said softly as he turned away and forced himself to write something, anything, as long as his mind was away from her.

**M**eg followed her mother quickly down the street, it had taken three hours to get all the things they needed and now they were moving as quickly as they could back to the carriage. The driver had made it clear that he was to stay with Christine until she said otherwise. So they had told the driver of Christine's indisposed state and he had been all too happy to offer them a ride.

The driver had been put up in a small lodge about four blocks from the area that their house resided. He walked to it every night and returned every morning. He had made things a great deal easier on the ladies today. With out him their trip would have taken an extra two hours.

Once they reentered the carriage they were off at a quick pace, "Mother…" Meg started once the carriage was in motion, "What will you do should Christine not wish to return to Raoul?"

The woman looked up from her bags of goods and gave her daughter a curious glance, "Has she said something to you that would make you wonder such a thing?"

Meg hesitated and then took a slow deep breath, "She informed me that she has no intentions of going back. I do not know if this is a serious accusation but, mother, she seemed very serious."

"I will have to confront her when she is better. This is a serious matter. What will become of her if she leaves him for good? No other man would have a woman who was already married, especially if she had no money."

"But mother, what about Erik? Do you think perhaps Christine would consider…"

"Do not assume that things will change between them just because her marriage to Raoul did not thrive. Christine has made her stance on Erik clear, she will never be with him because of his lust and desire for blood."

"But Erik has put that behind him, and with Christine by his side he would never feel the need to kill again."

"I have considered that but even so, Christine was raised with certain values that unlike you and I she cannot ignore. In her mind Erik is the right hand of the devil. We cannot change her mind."

Meg did not try and rebuke her mother's comments; instead she kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. Christine had once informed Meg that she wished the Angel of Music would take her away.

Once Christine had found out that her Angel was nothing more then a man, she had lost a little faith. But what made Erik so different from an Angel? He had removed Christine's sadness; he had given her a reason to sing again. He had taken her under his wing and given ever everything she had ever asked for. So why did it matter that Erik was not a holy Angel sent from heaven?

Perhaps Christine's fear had indeed gotten the better of her but then why had she returned. Christine had said she was willing to take the chance of having to face Erik again if it meant escaping the inner torments she had come to face with Raoul, but then it almost sounded like Christine had hoped Erik would confront her.

Something was not adding up and Meg planned to figure out exactly what the missing piece of this puzzle was. Everyone but Erik knew that Christine had lost a child, Meg's mother had not been aware of Christine's intentions of not returning to her husband until now. Meg had known just about everything that had happened except why the death of Christine's child had haunted her so.

It was true that the loss of a child was frequent but Meg knew that any sane loving mother _would_ mourn. A lengthy period of mourning was expected, but two years? There had to be something more to it then just the loss of her child that had driven Christine to such extreme measures. Leaving Raoul and then returning to Paris despite the fact that Erik could still be around, surely Christine had known he would hunt her down the instant he knew she had come back.

Meg's thoughts were interrupted when the carriage pulled up outside the house, "Quickly Meg grab a bag and come into the house." The two women hurried and soon they were in the kitchen boiling some herbs and chicken meat.

Erik had come down stairs at their arrival and had told them he had managed to get Christine to drink her tea, how he had managed they didn't ask. It took another few minutes for the thick broth to finish cooking and then Madame Giry ladled it into a small bowl.

"Erik will you?" She asked handing him the bowl, "You've seemed to have had more luck with her stubborn mouth then I."

Erik reluctantly nodded and took the bowl and then ascended the stairs. Madame Giry started to make more of her strange brother while Meg went to picking up around the house.

"Do you suppose the McBride's are still living out in the country by your grandparents house?" Meg asked.

"Who can say? It has been years since we have been. I would not be surprised if they moved."

"They owned a lot of the land, perhaps they are still making wine?"

"Let us hope if they are there they will not try and interfere."

"Oh but mother, they threw the grandest parties! And their son Liam is rather dashing." Meg said imagining the dark haired boy that used to chase her around the big tree behind the house.

Madame Giry actually gave a small smile and said, "I remember them well, my father, before he died said that there was never a party like the ones the McBride's threw. And the best part was that because all the people that came were mostly from the country nothing of their drunken mishaps ever made it back to Paris."

"It was like a gala right out in the country?"

"Indeed it was, dancing, jokes, music, though their music left something to be desired. They are Irish after all and most of their music was hard to dance to."

"I recall I fell once trying to learn the dances they showed us."

"You were not very old when I took you to those parties. And once Christine came to the Opera we stopped going. Her father would turn over in his grave if I had taken her."

Meg giggled a little leaned her head to rest on her mother's shoulder, "I wish we could have another party like that."

"Me too child."

Erik cleared his throat and the two women glanced towards him, "Lost in memories are we?" he asked.

Madame Giry straightened up and adjusted her stance, "Merely dwelling on the memories of people we once knew."

"I would much wish for you to see one of the McBride's parties Erik. You might have liked the music." Meg said retrieving the bowl from his hands.

"My word, you got her to eat the entire bowl?" Meg asked peering into the empty container in her hands, "How did you manage that?"

Erik smirked, "I can be quite persuasive if need me."

"You sang to her didn't you!" Meg said with a knowing smile.

Erik eyed her carefully and then sighed, "If you force her mouth open and rub your hand down the front of her throat it acts like an artificial swallowing motion. It went down quickly and efficiently and that is all that matters." He turned and walked from the room.

Meg leaned towards her mother and whispered in a mischievous voice, "He sang to her!"

**A/n: Next chapter will be up soon, but first I have to post the chapter in another story of mine! R&R**


	6. Born Special

Chapter Five

Born Special

_Phantom hands burned marks into her body, she gasped as steam rose from her newly branded skin. Music swirled around her as she felt him taking her in a violent fever. She dare not cry out for fear someone might here. For he had come to her to make her his. As much as his touched burned she longed for more. Her passions were aflame and only he could provide her with the nourishment needed to keep this blazing flame aglow. _

_Please Angel, please don't hurt me. _

_Never, never my beautiful rose. _

_He reached into her core and from it took everything she had to offer, took with out mercy, took with out a second thought. She did not mind because all she needed was this moment. This wonderful moment of passion, their bodies entwined defenseless and silent against the dark night that engulfed them. _

_Sing for me! _

_OH GOD MY ANGEL! _

_Sing for me! _

_OH PLEASE, BEAUTIFUL ANGEL! _

_SING FOR ME! _

_ANGEL! _

Christine's eyes fluttered open and she stared into the darkness. She sat up and looked around her, she was alone. How long had she been asleep? Images of the dream filled her head as her hands encircled her narrow body. She shivered, how long had it been since she had had that dream?

A recall of the one night that her and Erik had shared; the night that would eventually bring her such misery. The night that would continuously haunt her waking dreams and cause her to shutter when Raoul pulled near to calm her.

She had promised herself that she would not dwell on it, that it was the only honest thing Christine could give to him that would mean more then her words or gestures could ever mean.

He had left before she had woken and Christine had told her self it had been a dream, a dream that had been so real and so true that she could only live with herself if she pretended that it had never happened.

Even after all these years she still dreamed of the night that the angel of music had taken her and in dong so helped her sleeping bud of desire bloom into a full grown rose. Now that rose was withered with stress and guilt and regret.

So much could have happened that didn't; so much should have happened that couldn't. And now she was falling to pieces, but she needed to remain strong. Christine forced herself up again and stood from the bed. Her weakness had seemed to dissipate.

She felt strong and healthy for the first time in over two years and she looked around the empty room. On the foot of her bed a beautiful dark blue silken robe laid waiting for her slender shoulders. She took it up and slowly slid it on; it felt wonderful against her hot skin.

Christine walked to the door of her bedroom knowing good and well she would probably get an ear full from Antoinette if she was out of bed but Christine was restless and staying in the dark with nothing but that dream to keep her company spooked her.

Upon twisting the door handle she found it wasn't locked and smiled just a little at the prospect of being able to get up and leave. She walked out into the hall and headed for the stairs, she didn't get far before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Meg, "Christine! You are up! This is wonderful! How do you feel?" The girl asked with caring curiosity.

"Truthfully, I feel wonderful. It must have just been a night fever." Christine said smiling at her friend, Meg's smile faltered and her brow furrowed, "Actually… you were in bed with fever for three days."

Christine's eyes grew wide and she couldn't help but gasp a little, "Three days? Oh dear! How could I possibly have been asleep three days. I don't feel like any time has passed at all."

"Mother made some special broth and we fed it to you three times each day. It was almost impossible to get you to eat at first… but somehow Erik managed to…"

"Erik fed me while I was sick?" Christine asked.

Meg gave a small teasing smile and nodded, "He wouldn't leave your side, rest easy though, mother was the one who bathed you."

"You had to bath me?" Christine asked.

"Not I, mother did, but understand you were sweating a lot, she was worried about bed sores."

Christine slowly nodded and then shivered, "How did… I mean… Erik… How did he get me to eat?" Christine asked.

Meg smiled again that devilish smile and wrapped her arm around Christine's and began to lead her downstairs. "He told us some rubbish about rubbing your throat and creating some kind of reflexive swallow, but I snuck up once and caught him singing to you. He poured it right down your throat." Meg snickered, "He tricked you in a way."

"He sang to me while I was sick?"

"He did, it was so romantic."

Christine shivered and felt her face visibly pale, perhaps that is why she had had the dream, his music had been so near to her, and he had been so near to her. Her soul must have been aware of him and it had fired up the old flame from the night they had spent together.

"Where is Erik now?" Christine asked.

"Oh he went ahead out to the cottage, mother wanted him to fix it up before you got there."

"Fix it up?"

Meg sighed, "Erik wanted to go as well, he said he wanted to try something new… something about running water through pipes… he is so strange sometimes."

"You do not have to remind me." Christine said.

They had arrived at the kitchen and Christine's mouth dropped; the entire kitchen had been gutted and replaced with all new items. Christine looked across the hall into the main sitting and room and saw the same thing had occurred over there.

"What happened… this place looks beautiful." Christine said with a breathless apprehension.

"Erik happened. He is an architect you know, he likes to design. He came up with a great idea. Instead of selling this house to the city so they can destroy it and we can get a few francs he had mother and I clean it and then he replaced everything and turned this house into something worth looking at. His idea was to rent it out to some young couple and that will be our income for now. He plans to rebuild the whole road. If we one by one buy all the houses, fix them up and then rent them out that will start an income that Erik can use to take care of us and possibly fund his Opera in the future."

"That is brilliant…wait… he fixed this entire house in three days?"

Meg giggled, she pulled a chair out for Christine and then sat next to her, "Erik is very capable and very smart. He manages his time wisely, but no he did not manage the entire house. He only had time enough for the kitchen and the sitting room. Once we move out to the new house he will come back and work on this one in his spare time. Once it is done he will rent it out and then start on the next house."

Christine wasn't sure how she felt at this moment, Erik was proving to be even more brilliant then she had known. Apparently it wasn't just music he took pride in but design, architecture, drawing, painting, magic… he was a man of many talents.

She sighed and placed her face in her hands and tried to steady herself, "Christine what is wrong? Do you not feel well?"

Christine was about to speak when she heard the front door open; Madame Giry came in holding a parcel.

"Hello mother. How was town?"

"It was nice. I like this carriage driver, he takes me were I ask with out any odd questions."

"Oh dear! The carriage driver! He hasn't been paid in three days! He will be furious with me!" Christine said standing.

"Relax child, Erik has kept him well paid."

Christine stared at her a moment and then sat down with a huff, "Where is that man getting all this money. Buying medicine for me and food for you and paying my carriage man and then fixing this old house, he must be stealing all the money."

Madame Giry gave a small reassuring smile, "Erik has been alive a long time my dear, if you do not recall he used to get 20,000 francs a month from the managers at the Opera. That can add up over a period of say, twenty years. Erik is not a frivolous spender; he only spends money on what he needs or what he deems worthy. He is no Vicomte but he has plenty of money that will last a long time if he utilizes it correctly."

Christine sat a moment and then gasped, "That would be close to 5,000,000 francs!"

"I never cared for numbers my dear, I just do what he says and he always rewards me in the end. By the way, I am glad to see you are up and doing well. You feel well too then?"

"I do. Thank you Antoinette, your broth did wonders for me. I've never felt so healthy."

"My mother used to make it for me and my brothers when we were sick. An old family recipe, it could get a horse of thirty years to pull five carts at once if needed."

Madame Giry placed her parcel on the table and left the room a moment, she returned with a pair of clippers and snipped the brown twine that held the package together.

"What is it mother?" Meg asked.

The parcel was bigger then most she had seen and didn't look like something heavy or hard. It looked more like cloth would be on the inside and Meg was not far from the truth.

"Do you remember the McBrides? You were talking to me about them the other day." Meg nodded.

"When I showed Erik the way to my home they saw the carriage outside and came and spoke to me. They wish to have us for dinner once we have settled in so that we may catch up with them. I figured you and Christine might like something pretty to wear. Erik helped me pick them out."

"Erik went shopping with you?" Meg asked with a giggle in her voice, "Do not laugh, the man has spectacular taste. But no, he told me what colors would look best on you two and told me the best cut. I must say, his ideas have paid off, you two will look lovely."

Madame Giry pulled the paper back and lifted the first dress up, "Meg, for you my love." It was a beautiful light pink with gold trim and white lace. It had a sash that wrapped around in a darker shade of pink and Meg gasped.

"It looks so beautiful! And expensive!"

"Erik did not spare a cent." Madame Giry said.

She pulled the next dress, which was a dark blue with silver trim and black lace. "For you my dear." Christine eyed the dress and couldn't deny its loveliness. But to think Erik had bought a dress for her, or even just gave Madame Giry the money. It reminded her of the wedding dress he had forced her into.

Her skin prickled a little but she reached out and touched the dress, it was so soft and smooth and looked absolutely stunning, "Beautiful." Christine whispered.

"But mother, what of you?" Madame Giry gave another soft smile, "Erik offered but I told him I had plenty of dresses at the house that I have not touched in years. I prefer to wear my training dresses, I can move better in them."

The girls went back to admiring the dresses and Madame Giry sighed, "I am not sure though how the McBride's will feel about Erik."

"What of him? Just tell them before hand that he was in an accident. He prefers to wear the mask so that he does not offend anyone." Meg chirped.

"I suppose I could try. They know there is a male gentleman residing with us. I told them he was your uncle. So you will need to refer to him as such." Meg nodded and then glanced at Christine.

"What about Christine? Is she to be my sister?"

"No, they know who she is. Her fame was brief but it was not contained to Paris. I will not be surprised my dear if they ask for a song or two during the party."

Christine felt her heart sink, "I cannot sing for them… I have not sung for anyone in a long time. My voice is weak and untrained."

Meg nudged her, "I bet Erik could…"

"No, I could never ask such a thing of him. I was cruel enough to him those two years ago, asking such a favor of him would seem ungrateful and selfish."

"My child, Erik holds no ill will against you. He let you go because he wanted you to be happy. I am sure he would help you regain the very thing that both of you so treasured." Madame Giry said.

Christine felt a tear come to her eyes, "I never deserved his teachings in the first place. Asking for them now is just out of the question."

Meg frowned, "Since when have you started thinking so little of yourself?"

Christine's brow furrowed, was she suddenly thinking less of herself? She hadn't thought she was. The truth of the matter was that Erik was a musical genius, and even though music ran in Christine's blood she would have never gone as far as she had with out Erik's fine tutelage.

She had needed him; he had not needed her, because his music would still be beautiful, and scary, and passionate and fierce and powerfully seductive with out her. Where as Christine would never be able to have sounded like she had with out him. Her voice was good but with out his music she was just another singer trying to make it.

"I am not thinking less of myself, compared to Erik I am not even a ink blot in the stage notes. With out him I would have never made it as far as I did. I needed him but he never truly needed me."

Madame Giry gave her a kind smile and patted Christine's shoulder reassuringly, "He may not have needed you to write music, but he needed you and you alone to sing it. He could create beautiful music before you came into his life, but once he heard you sing for that first time, no one else would do to sing his pieces. Your voice is what he created his music _for_ child. With out your voice he has no reason to create the music that you speak so highly of."

Christine had never thought about it that way and she gave a small smile back and then looked to the dress, "He has wonderful taste. And he knows what I like."

"Erik has always been one for knowing things. He is a genius after all."

Christine nodded and stood; she crossed to the dress and raised it up pulling it away from the table and admiring everything about it. "When are we leaving?"

Madame Giry was silent for a moment as if she was thinking of the correct thing to say, in the end she replied by saying, "When ever you are well enough to be moved."

Christine felt her heart speed up a little, "I am well enough now. I barely felt sick when I got up today."

Madame Giry nodded, "We are waiting for a correspondence from Erik. Once he says the house out in the country is ready we shall leave. Until then you must rest." Madame Giry said gently touching Christine's arm.

The girl reluctantly nodded and then Meg bounced up beside her, "We should try them on! I want to see how beautiful you will be!"

"Not as beautiful as you." Christine said smiling at her friend.

"Come!" Meg hauled Christine from the room and Madame Giry smiled after them.

**E**rik admired his handy work. He had prepared four rooms, all of which were meant to compliment the personality of the person they lay waiting for. He had just finished the most intricate room.

Christine's.

He had wanted to capture every aspect of her in this room. He had resolved to use soft light colors, with laces and flowers. He had given her the room with the biggest window to allow in the most amount of light and made sure that the view was pleasant.

He had managed to find a large canopy and had taken pain-staking amounts of time to carve complex images, symbols, designs, and other such things into the thick oak posts and head bored. He found the most perfect color of lace to hang from the canopy and tied the lace to the four posts with a thick piece of white ribbon.

He found a very soft thick rug to put on the wooden floor, which he had managed to polish to a ridiculous shine. He had retiled the small fireplace in the room and added a carved shelf right above it where he placed flowers and a jewelry box and other such things.

Erik had searched through the old barn in the back and had found a beautiful oak desk, which he had sanded down and repainted to shine a dazzling white. He placed this near the window and placed yet another vase of flowers on the left corner closest to the light.

The walls themselves he had painted a off white and around the top he had removed the old crown molding and painted a light blue design which wound and spun like waves or vines.

But it was the ceiling he was the most proud of. Christine had always talked about her life in the cottage by the sea and though he had never personally seen it Christine had, before Erik had taken her the first time below ground, told him stories of the old house. Her details were astonishing and Erik remembered every word she had spoken.

It had taken a sizeable amount of his time, but he had managed to find enough paints of the right color to fill her ceiling with a mural, which followed her detailed stories to the exact words.

A cottage on a cliff, which led down to a beach, beyond the beach, was the vast ocean, which looked to be dancing to a music no one could hear. He stared up at it and wished he could visit this place in person one day. It looked so beautiful in his painting, he couldn't even imagine what he must look like in person.

He gazed at the room and realized something was missing but he wasn't sure what. Erik stepped back even further to stand in the doorway and tried to figure out what else the room could possibly need.

"Desk, bed, fireplace, ceiling, rug, window…ah ha!" He said to himself. Erik left the room and a few minutes later returned with a set of curtains, which matched the lace of the canopy bed. Ten minutes later the windows had beautiful lace curtains, which he pulled back and tied to a knob in the wall he had just installed. He kept with the theme and used thick slices of white ribbon to tie them back and then once again returned to the door where he turned and tried to admire his work.

"This room will be your haven since I could not be." Erik turned and shut the door behind him.

Upon descending the steps heard a knock on front door, he stopped on the third step from the floor and stared in that direction. Who could that be? The neighbors knew that Madame Giry was not at the household at the moment. Did they not understand the concept of no one is home?

The knock sounded again and then the bell rang, "Damn." Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out a large piece of black silk that he had used in Madame Giry's room. He wrapped it around the deformed side of his face at an angle so he could still see from his good eye. He approached the door and reluctantly opened the door.

Before him stood a young boy, probably no older then twelve, the child stared up at him in wander.

"What?" Erik asked with annoyance.

The child swallowed nervously and then raised a shaky hand and handed Erik letter, Erik snatched it away and went to shut the door but the boy made a odd noise and Erik peered back down at him waiting.

"Were you in an accident?"

Suddenly it was Erik's turn to stare in a nervous surprise, "That is none of your business." Erik said. He didn't shut the door however, which was an odd thing to do.

"No." Erik replied.

"Were you born special?" the boy asked.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to ask so many questions?" Erik snapped.

The boy's eyes suddenly looked curious, "I do not have a mother."

This stopped Erik short, suddenly his inner rage was deflated and he looked upon the child with pity. It was an odd sensation having pity for someone else, he wasn't used to it. Reluctantly Erik got down on his knee and sighed, "Yes, I was born different."

The boy came closer and cocked his head to the side as if the change in position would help him understand, "You were born special. Like me." The boy raised his left hand, which was the opposite hand from which he had handed the letter.

Erik stared at his hand in shock, he hadn't even noticed until now; the boy's left hand was horribly deformed. His arm looked normal until you got to his elbow and which point it seemed to shrink, the skin looked vainly and pale and it was easy to see that the muscle that should have formed didn't. His hand was so small that the fingers hadn't even bothered to form and it was as if a stump had been shoved into his thin frail bone at birth.

"My papa says that I was born special. I am unique. No one is like me."

Erik didn't know what to say, or how to handle this situation, "Can I see your special face?" the boy asked in a curious voice.

He stared at the child who was no longer acting scared and with out even thinking about it removed the silk from his face. The child didn't run but Erik could sense how still he grew. He was waiting for a scream, or a cry or even for the child to run. But all he did was stare and study the mangled deformed face before him.

"You are really special."

Erik shook his head and stood, "You have no idea." Erik then thanked the boy for the letter and shut the door no longer wishing to think about the encounter, which had just occurred.

But try as he might he couldn't get the image of the child's deformed hand from his mind. Is that how Christine felt the first time she saw his face? Was the image of his face burned into her mind like a scar that would never heal?

Erik needed to finish working on the water system, this house had no pipes to carry water and he found that having such things made life easier. It would take to much time to cut open the walls, the easiest thing to do would be to put the pipes on the outside of the house but that would look odd.

Perhaps if he planted some vines right under the pipes in a year's time they would be hidden. That would be the best option. He would spend the next two days placing the pipes and then he would finish the bathing room. Then he could send for the others.

Erik sighed and started the laborious task of laying the pipe and figuring out how to connect to the well in the back. He would need to construct a pump… perhaps there was more metal in the barn.

Two days and then everything would be ready; everything would be perfect for Christine.

"Christine."

**A/n: What do you think? Good chapter? Let me know! **


	7. The Morning Post

**Chapter Seven **

**The Morning Post **

**T**he day that Madame Giry received the morning post was a surprise to everyone. There was no mail ever delivered to the house that the three women were currently residing in and so when a knock came to the door everyone was shocked.

Madame Giry opened the door with a calm almost knowing air, because after all she was expecting a letter from Erik. He had been down at the cottage for two whole weeks now and had told her it wouldn't take longer then a week and a half.

Madame Giry wished he would hurry because Christine was slowly but surely falling back into her old ways. She was eating less and less and despite the fact that the weather was on the enjoyable side she refused to go for walks or get fresh air.

She sat on the chaise in the sitting room and didn't move or speak; often she would stare off into nothing and seemed to be lost in thought. Meg would try to keep her spirits up, bring her back to the happy personality she had when she had received the dress from Erik but even bringing that up now only seemed to make things worse.

A mail boy who handed over two pieces of mail greeted Madame Giry. She nodded her thanks and handed him one Franc, at which the boy smiled and ran off. She turned and came into the kitchen where she set the first letter down and opened the second.

_Dear Nettie, _

_I must apologize for the amount of time it has taken to prepare the cottage for your arrival. I did not take into consideration the fact that the house has stood empty for so long. I have prepared four rooms and arrange most of the house in a clean and satisfying way. You may come as soon as you are able and give my regards to little Meg and of course Christine. _

_As an after thought I must inform you that I was most graciously invited to the return party your neighbors are planning seven times by the little boy who lives down the road. Apparently he spoke rather highly of me after we meet to your neighbors and they insist that I attend. I am unsure what path to take and would be very grateful if we could discuss this matter when you arrive. _

_Forever your obedient servant, _

_Erik _

Madame Giry smiled; Erik had met Philip, how interesting. "Girls! Girls please come here!"

Meg came into the room with a large curious smile, Christine followed with a blank face, which might have been construed as curious if her eyes had not been red and puffy.

"Erik has sent a letter, we can make our way out to the country. Please go and pack your things." Meg squealed and jumped from the room in excitement, but Christine just stood there frozen.

"We are going to him them?" Christine asked in a wavering voice.

"Of course, you knew this was the plan, why act so surprised?" Madame Giry asked.

"It's just so sudden. I do not know if I can face him."

Perhaps this had been the cause of Christine's self-deprivation, she was anxious about being reunited with Erik. The man had already talked to her once, what else could be said? Perhaps there was so much that had not been said that she feared the eventual talk that was to come?

"Child, you cannot run away from every problem life throws at you. As I have said before, you have been through many horrible things but in the end it is how you choose to use these experiences that counts. When you face Erik again you must do so with a strong resolve and an unfaltering will, remember he is just a man. Now, go pack your things." Madame Giry gently pushed her out the door and then turned to the next letter.

She opened it quickly and her eyes scanned over the words,

_Madame Giry, _

_I have already sent you three letters and have yet to hear back from you about whether or not my wife has taken up residency with you. I suggest you write back, less I should have to come looking for her. Please send a letter and inform me of her current personality and how she is faring. _

_Sincerely, _

_The Vicomte de Changy  
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Madame Giry sighed, she had no choice, she couldn't put it off anymore. She had received four letters all together and each one seemed to get shorter and much more aggressive. She searched for a quill and ink and some paper and sat down in hopes she could lie in print as well as she could in person.

_To the Vicomte de Changy, _

_Vicomte, your wife is with me and I must say she was not at all well when she first came to me. She has been doing much better but I cannot at all say that your fancy doctors have done much for her. She is currently healing and resting with my daughter Meg and I._

_I suggest you do not come, nor should you approach in any way shape or form. Christine does not wish to see you right now and I will not force such an exhausting expedition on her. We will be making a move out to the country soon to further Christine's wellness and I ask that if you must write letters that you write them only to me. Christine is not in any position to be speaking with you or anyone else. _

_Kindest Regards, _

_Madame Antoinette Giry_

She read it over and over to make sure it sounded like she was furious with the condition Christine was in when the girl had come to her. She also wanted to make sure it was clear that Raoul was not to try and contact her. Until Madame Giry knew what Christine's intentions were she did not want the girl to have to try and grapple with confused feelings.

She wrapped the letter and sent it off with the carriage driver; he was to take it to the first mail boy he saw and then return. Oh what would become of them all?

**E**rik watched as the familiar carriage arrived with three women inside. He stared out the window looking for Christine's face; unfortunately he only saw Meg and her mother. He turned quickly and crossed his dark room to the desk.

Scooping up his mask and over coat in seconds he put them on with haste and quickly left his room, he locked the door behind him and headed for the stairs.

As he heard the woman's carriage pull up he opened the door and stepped away from it, merging into a dark corner of the house to make sure the carriage driver would not see him.

Erik had been having Meg keep the driver well paid, whether or not the driver knew of Erik's existence he didn't want to leave anything to chance. If the carriage driver were still writing home to Raoul then everything Erik had been doing the past few weeks would be for nothing.

He watched as first Madame Giry, then Meg and Finally Christine crossed the threshold of the house and set their bags down.

"The door was left wide open." Meg said with worry.

"Do not worry, that is Erik's way of welcoming us. Not to mention he needs to stay out of sight until we all settle in and figure out the matters of this family."

"Family?" Christine asked softly. Erik felt his heart flutter, her voice was so beautiful, and it still stung him to think she hadn't been practicing.

"You are part of this family child, whether you wish to be or not. I assume though since you showed up asking for our help you do not mind the prospect so much?"

Christine shook her head and sighed, "Now that we are here perhaps we should find our rooms and then go and rest."

"You are always so tired Christine. A long time ago you would have begged mother to let us go off on an adventure." Meg said taking her and Christine's bag.

"A long time ago I was young, naïve and actually had the energy for such things."

"You'd have the energy if you would just eat something." Meg snapped unnecessarily.

"Girls hush. You sound just like a pair of children. Now go find your rooms and then return to help me with supper, do not delay."

The two girls nodded and headed up the stairs, "I assume the bedrooms are upstairs?" Came a soft voice.

"I would think so." Meg said with a sigh.

"Nettie… how is she?" Erik asked emerging from the darkness.

"She is doing no better then when she first arrived. I thought her brush with death would bring her back to life but I fear it had no effect on her."

"Will she sing for the McBride's?" Erik asked.

"I doubt it. Her voice is to weak and her confidence is shattered." Madame Giry said with a sad tone.

Erik shook his head and looked down, "My angel has fallen from grace."

"Perhaps you could…"

"No. I will not force my music on her again. Not unless she should ask for it. The last time I tried to force myself and my music upon her she ended up leaving me."

"This is different Erik… she needs the music, she is going to die with out it. You do not understand, her reasons for not running back to you are confusing at best but you could still have her yet if you could just show her you care."

Erik looked at her with venom, "I care for her more then I have ever cared for anyone else, but she spurned me once and I almost died. I will never face her damnation again."

Erik swiftly moved passed her and headed up the stairs towards his room, as he rounded the corner Christine ran right into him. She fell back and Erik looked down at her with surprise.

They did not speak; they looked at each other, and Christine's eyes wide and shocked, Erik's eyes narrow and sharp. Erik reached out a gloved hand to her and she looked at it, she raised her shaky hand and carefully took his. He helped her to stand and their eyes locked again. Silence passed between them but neither could look away, "Erik…" she whispered softly. She came closer to him, almost as if she planned to kiss him. Erik saw the look in her eye and recognized it, he instantly pulled back and moved passed her.

It was like a vale was lifted from before her eyes, she could think clearly again. She watched him storm down the hall and unlock his door. He did not glance at her again as the door slammed with a resounding thud.

**E**rik paced his room with a nervous anxiety. Christine had looked like she was about to kiss him, why had she so suddenly and out of the blue appeared to be interested? Or perhaps her interest was not something to be taken so seriously.

Something was wrong with her, one minute she was terrified of him, the next she seemed to be melting into his eyes. He needed to be able to talk to her, he needed to be alone with her. But that was impossible, not with Nettie and little Meg around.

He sighed as he removed his mask and over coat, the three women would be preparing dinner and now Erik had to decide if he wanted to eat in his room or down at the table with the others. How strange would that be, long ago Erik had longed to share a table with Christine, break bread and speak to each other like lovers did over dinners of exquisite taste.

But this was not how he expected it to be, nor how he hoped it would be. So much had changed and yet so much had stayed the same. He sighed and crossed to the large oak table he had placed in his bedroom. He sat down and turned to admire his room.

Blacks and reds with cark wood surrounded him, a room that was meant for him. He could feel his own soul in every corner of this room. From the large canopy with black lace curtains to the large fire place which cast the dancing light of the fire that blazed in it. How could he ever hope to mix his black lace with Christine's white lace?

He sighed and turned to his music, after everything, after all these years the music had still not returned to him. Where he had once been able to write music with hopes that Christine would be able to sing it for him, now he had nothing and no one to write for.

No one but she understood his music, no one but her understood and felt the music as he did. It was part of her soul, part of her being just like it was his and yet somehow she resisted the music's call. How did she turn her back so easily? Even now Erik longed to feel it coursing through his veins, pulsing like seductive venom through his core. His heart beating in tune with it, his soul dancing the dark waltz of the music of the night.

Could he win her back with the music? Could he use her desire to escape from the music against her? Could he show her that she belonged to the music, and the music belonged to her and that she couldn't let someone like Raoul destroy such a beautiful gift?

Suddenly Erik's aching heart seemed to grow strong, he picked up the violin which rested next to the table and placed it against his neck, his shaky hand raised the bow and lay it like a gentle kiss across the strings, "Come back to me music, bring her back to me! Cast your seductive spell and let her hear you! Let her hear us! Let her come to us and become one." He said in a desperate whisper.

He pulled the bow across the strings and one solid silver note escaped from the beautiful instrument. Erik imagined it was Christine's voice, he imagined she was singing to him. He coaxed another long beautiful note out of the violin and suddenly felt something he hadn't in years.

It was like Christine's presence had given him the power to recall the music; his desire to bring her back to him had fueled his craving to create music. He could feel the energy and music surging through every muscle every layer of his being.

He kept playing and his few notes turned into many, he cut them short or stretched them out into a song he had never even heard before. It was like the music possessed him. It was like he couldn't control himself or what he played, but he could feel everything that had been within him the last few years pouring out into this crescendo of beauty, this song which perfectly emulated himself and how he felt and what he wanted and who he dreamed of and how amazing it all felt!

Finally with his fingers bleeding, his heart weeping, his brow sweating like he had just ran miles upon miles, he held out one final note to end this beautiful masterpiece he had created. He gasped as the note faded and silence followed. It closed in on him and he felt the embrace of his music disappear.

"Please don't leave me." He barely whispered as he felt himself crumple from the chair. He was so weak, so tired, he had been drained and left cold and alone.

"I must remember what I played…" Erik stuttered as he forced his shaky body to get up. He forced himself back into the chair and pulled out a piece of cloth, he cleaned his bloody fingers and wiped his sweaty brow and began to feverishly write.

**C**hristine pulled her ear away from the door, the violin had stopped and she felt her heart stop. Was Erik dead? She wasn't sure she could even doubt that possibility. She had never heard him put so much of his soul into his music, even when she had been studying under him. He had just given himself over to the music completely and allowed it to take him up and drink from his being.

After something like that he could be in danger, she turned the knob carefully only to find the door locked. She cursed in French and turned to go but found herself stopping when the door clicked and then swung open.

Erik leaned against the door leering at her, "Does Madame de Changy need something?" his voice was like acid as it stung her and made her shiver.

"I heard… I mean…. I…" she stared at the mask face of the man who had caused her so much trouble and suddenly, as if this had always been a thought in the back of her mind that had just popped into her thoughts, she couldn't even believe she was staring at the same man.

His eyes looked upon her with cold animosity, his sneer showed how little he really cared. Any desire to ever be close to her had vanished from his face and she felt like she was a most unwelcomed presence in this house. She felt tears well up and she turned, "Dinner is ready."

Every step she took away from him pained her beyond anything she could imagine. That music, that song he had played on the violin had drawn her upstairs, had brought from her soul something she herself had thought lay dormant or dead.

It was like life was being pumped into her body, it was like her heart was beating again. That music, that heavenly music, she had once been able to create music like that. Her voice had been compared to that of angels, she had been considered a prodigy. Though Christine knew the truth, she was none of those things, not an angel not a musical genius.

It was Erik who had the power, the strength, and the ability to turn heads with his music. Christine had just leeched her gifts off of him. At the bottom of the stairs she turned to look up them and felt a tear run down her face. She wasn't hungry anymore; she walked to the front door and left with out a word.

Madame Giry had been right; it was almost impossible to live with her self now that she had made her choices. Could Christine really look back on all her choices and say they were the right ones?

Christine wasn't sure where she was walking but she let her feet lead and she hoped she would end up somewhere nice. The lawns of this large house were spread out like a maze. Christne had no idea that Madame Giry's family was so…. Rich?

What did it matter really? Money was money; Christine had always been poor until Raoul came along. She didn't mind sleeping in haystacks or traveling until you were so tired that sleeping in a tree was like sleeping in a bed of feathers.

She walked far from the house, far away from anything ugly and nasty. She wanted to escape from these feelings she could not name, and she wanted to name the feelings she couldn't seem to escape.

One was fear, and of course one was guilt. But fear of what? And guilt for what? Guilt for leaving Raoul, or for losing the child, was it for leaving Erik? Was it guilt for everything she had become while she was playing the little wife to some boring aristocratic family?

Suddenly the answer came to her, "I feel guilty for everything." She whispered.

"It's all my fault." She felt her legs give out, her cloak fluttered out about her as she cried out everything that she had been trying to keep in.

"It is all my fault, I have hurt everyone including myself. I understand now…"

"Understand what?" came a soft voice from behind. Christine turned to see Meg and she softly smiled, "Oh Meg." The little blonde girl crossed to her tearful friend and pulled her close for a hug.

"I've ruined everything. I've hurt everyone, I've been so guilty and I never understood why. But I suddenly do understand. I heard Erik playing his music and it all came to me. When he played that music I felt my spirit come back to life, I felt my desire to sing and my desire to live become clear from all the other things that had been pulling me to a quick death. I know why I feel so awful all the time."

"Why? Why have you been torturing yourself for the past three years?"

Christine pulled away from her friend and wiped her face clean, "I asked Erik for everything and he gave it to me. I betrayed the man who inspired my voice. I went home with Raoul only to find out that the gift he had given me was going to fade with the rest of my personality that I couldn't share with anyone. I hadn't a friend in the world and I was so lonely. And then the child… Meg the child I lost that tore me up for so long… I know why it bothered me so much."

Meg eyed her carefully, she hadn't been aware that Christine had lost a baby. Perhaps that was something that Christine had told Madame Giry.

"I didn't want to admit it to myself, in fact I went out of my way to deny it. But when Erik let me go with Raoul I saw the beauty in him, I saw the mercy and pity. I knew that I had to give him something for granting me my freedom. He came to me one night to say good bye and I gave myself to him Meg. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced and that night Meg I know he left me with child. It's been slowly killing me to deny the fact that the first child I ever carried was the man who gave me everything and has never received anything. When I lost the child Meg… I felt the last piece of Erik that I had close to me had been lost. I thought I would never see Erik again and the one thing I thought that would allow me to remember him, to honor him as the teacher he was is to raise his son and love him like he deserved, like his father deserved. When that child died I felt like the only part of Erik I had in me died too. And Meg, oh how guilty I felt having been unable to bring his greatest work to fruition! I lost Erik's child and it's all my fault."

Meg hushed Christine as she sobbed into her friends dress, "I am wretched, I owed him that at least! I would have loved his child more then anyone, I would have given that child everything he could ever want. I would have given him the love I couldn't give to Erik. I failed."

Meg gently ran her fingers through Christine's thick hair and tried to hush her and calm her. "Christine, the loss of a child is not anyone's fault. You couldn't have stopped it anymore then you could stop a disease from spreading or stop war from happening. But you took the next step. You were unhappy with Raoul and so you left. You are here now with your family… mother and I won't ever left anything happen to you."

"But Erik… he looks at me with disgust… he must know what happened! He must know how I failed him! How I killed his child!"

"Christine! You must listen to me; you did not kill his child. You tried to give Erik's child life and he just wasn't strong enough to make it. That is NOT now nor will it EVER be your fault. You are a strong woman Christine, you must not let your mind play tricks on you like this."

"But Meg, I lost so much. I can't bare to think of telling Erik the truth… he will be consumed by rage! He may kill me!"

Meg suddenly slapped Christine across the face and the girl drew back in shock, "Now listen to me Christine, I have already told you before Erik has left those murderous habits behind. He is a new man now and would never kill someone unless they presented a threat to him or his family. Erik loves you; he always has and always will. But you must remember that you broke his heart, you turned your back on him. You also turned your back on his music… when was the last time you sang?"

Christine once again wiped her face clean and cleared her throat, she thought a moment and then sighed, "I can't remember."

"You've allowed others to take what Erik spent so much time instilling into you to dismiss everything he ever taught you. You dismissed the music, your abilities, what you really want just so you could hold up the appearance of a good wife. If anything Erik feels like he failed you because his teachings weren't strong enough to allow you to continue what you loved doing. You couldn't stand by your desires with out Erik there to guide you. You left him to quickly… but perhaps it isn't to late." Meg said.

Christine looked at her friend strangely, "What do you mean?"

"Go to Erik… tell him EVERYTHING, and then beg him to take you back as his student."

"What? I can't do that! I could never ask him to take me back as his student! He would not even hear of it!" Christine gasped standing up.

"Why not? Erik has always been fond of you; even before he fell in love with you he thought you were a silly little girl. What is so wrong with going back to relearn what you forgot?"

"Erik won't do it. He has nothing to gain, nothing to hope to achieve. And what if he falls in love with me again? I am married."

"You left your husband and as of right now had no intention of returning correct? Well would life with Erik be so bad? You want a life of music and Erik is the music."

"Meg…"

"No Christine, listen, in three days the dinner party at the McBride's is to take place. You spend the next three days reflecting on this conversation, you figure out exactly what you want out of this life. And then at the dinner party you will confront Erik and tell him what ever it is you need to tell him. No matter what it is. And then if you feel like you need to leave and go back to Raoul or just leave and go someplace else I will make sure no one tries to stop you."

Christine stared at her friend a moment and seemed to be debating the words her friend had just spoke. And then she took a deep breath to try and steady herself, she looked to her friend and then gave a small smile, "Three days to decide the fate of my future… how wonderful."

Meg smiled and took her friends hand and led her back towards the house, neither one knew what would happen in the next three days but surely something good would come out of all of this. It just had to, because everyone deserved to have something good happen to them… right?

**A/n: Let me know what you thought! R&R **


	8. Dinner and Dilemmas

A**/N: I am so glad everyone likes this story it makes me happy to know I am doing well with it. I will try to keep it up thank you for all the wonderful reviews! By the way I don't know much about the rules of etiquette back in this time period. I mostly did costume studies not social stuff, though costumes can represent social class but this isn't a story about outfits. So anyway it's a very basic night for these guys mostly focusing around a certain pair of people you know who! **

**My final note before I shut up is that I chose the song **_**Pie Jesu**_** because it is in fact a song usually aimed for higher singers. But also because if you look up the song **_**Pie Jesu**_** by Charlotte Church she did a "duet" of this song and I could literally see her and Meg singing this. The album is called **_**Voice of an Angel,**_** which I believe is fitting all things considered. Thie version of Pie Jesu I will be using was ironically written but Andrew Lloyd Webber. So enjoy! By the way at the end of this story I will have the translation of the song up for anyone who cares to read it. Thanks and enjoy! **

**Chapter 8 **

**Dinner and Dilemmas **

Christine and Meg admired each other in their dresses, "Christine we look so radiant!"

It was true too, the pink dress that Meg wore made her light pink features pop and her blonde hair seem to shine, her eyes sparkled like baby blue crystals. Christine's soft brown hair complimented the dark shades of blue and the black that moved as she walked and her pale skin came across like polished ivory. Both women had their hair done up in beautiful fashions and each wore a beautiful necklace that only added to their picturesque forms.

"You look beautiful Meg." Christine said giving her friend a hug.

"You look like an angel." Meg replied squeezing her friend back.

The two girls had been talking and spending non-stop time together trying to reason out what Christine was going to do. Where she might end up with the choices she made.

In all actuality it WAS Christine's choice, and she would have to make it tonight. Right after dinner. The question was, would she choose Erik and his music, would she return to Raoul, or would she simply go off on her own to live a life of solitude. Meg had begged her to consider a nunnery. At least there she wouldn't be alone and she would have a roof over her head. She would have the peace she needed to think about all the events of her life and to put things into perspective. She would also have the warm embrace of her Lord, which, Meg noticed, seemed to make Christine consider this idea more so then the others.

One way or another she had four hours to figure out what she wanted to do.

"Meg! Christine! Allons!" Madame Giry called up the stairs.

The girls quickly grabbed their small bag like purses and hurried from Christine's room. And what a room it was. When Christine had first seen it she was utterly stunned. It had been the most beautiful room she had ever seen, it was better then the one she had had at Raoul's home. And the mural on her ceiling, it had made tears come to her eyes.

"Look, Meg! The cottage by the sea! My father and I lived there every summer for years!"

When Christine had learned that Erik had designed all the rooms in the house she had made the effort to find him and thank him for her beautiful new room. He had simply nodded and left.

That was what Christine feared about choosing Erik, if she did, would he always be so cold to her? Would he always dismiss her like that if they worked together, lived together, what about after they made love if they ever reached that level? Would he leave her alone and not speak to her again until her next lesson?

So uncertain was she that Christine wasn't sure she would have the nerve to confront him after dinner. But she had to! She must! For her sake and for Erik's after the dinner she would confront him.

Christine reached the front door with Meg in tow and Madame Giry gasped, "Mon Mot!" She said with a large smile, "How pretty you both look!"

"Thank you mother! You look Beautiful as well!"

The three women talked for a few more moment before a noise was heard and they turned to see Erik standing on the stairs. He was wearing a fine suit and a beautifully polished porcelain mask. His deformities all but hidden and on his face a smirk of confidence, at least that is what it appeared to Christine. He was looking at Madame Giry who nodded to the girls, Erik's head slowly turned and he locked eyes onto the two beautiful women.

"Beauty has never been so truthfully represented in the eyes of man." Eric said as he descended the stairs.

Meg giggled and gently pushed Christine forward, she stumbled slightly but regained her balance and looked up to Erik and blushed, "You look very handsome Erik." She said softly with a small warm smile.

For a very brief moment Christine thought she might have seen the corner of his mouth twitch up. But it had vanished as soon as it came and Erik held out his arm. Christine slowly and nervously wrapped her arm around his and then Meg followed suit when Erik offered to her. Madame Giry took hold of Meg's arm and they headed for the coach.

**I**t had been odd at first. Christine meeting new people with Erik, she had never known he was so charming. At first it had taken a moment for Madame Giry to explain her lie in a believable fashion. Erik Had been in an accident, leaving his face damaged and to keep people comfortable he wore the mask.

Kathryn, who was the wife of Mr. McBride, had tried to ask questions but Mr. McBride had been graceful enough to side step her questions and have them escorted into the sitting room.

Here they sat and drank some tea and the real conversations began.

Christine, Meg and Madame Giry sat on the main sofa and Erik leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"So Antoinette, how long do you plan to remain in the country? Surely your house out here offers much more then a flat in the city?" Mr. McBride asked casually.

"Oui, it does feel like I have returned to my true home. But the kind of work I love can only be found in the city. Ballet is an art and sadly I fear there aren't many Opera houses out here."

Mr. McBride chuckled and Madame Giry sighed, "We only plan to stay for a few months while charge Christine Daae recouparats."

Mr. McBride looked at Christine who suddenly felt an extreme amount of pressure under his kind gaze, "I was sick Monsieur." She said.

"Ah yes! Christine Daae! We have heard of you, even all the way out here in the hillsides. Your voice is compared to that of an angel by many."

Christine blushed and looked down, "Thank you Monsieur, but I have not sang in a long time. I am sure that is no longer the case."

"Not sing? With a voice like you? Pourquoi?" Mrs. McBride asked in total shock.

"She was married." Meg said.

"Ah! Who was the charming young knight to sweep you away from your life of stardom! To take such a flower from the stage as such a young age is worse then picking grapes to early from the vine."

Again Christine blushed, her smile hidden from view as she looked at her hands.

"She is no longer with her husband." Madame Giry said softly giving the McBride's a somewhat relaxed smile.

Mrs. McBride brought her fingers to her lips, "Oh dear! I am sorry my child! Look at us yammering on about things we have no business to talk about! I apologize!"

Christine looked up at her and gave a true smile, "It is alright. I actually left him for that very reason. I wish to return to the stage. But have yet to find a teacher to instruct me. My voice is so weak and untrained it will probably take years…"

A sound came from behind and Christine turned to see Erik's gaze burning into her. The color left her face and she snapped back around just as Mr. McBride said, "Surely your previous teacher would pick up your studies for you?"

Christine felt her anxiety growing as she tried to compose herself and not let her emotions take over, "Actually… my previous teacher and I had a… few disagreements and he left to find a more capable student. I couldn't give him the performance he wanted so he left."

Christine glanced back at Erik… his gaze was no longer heated, it was on fire. His eyes sliced into her and Christine had to fight back the tears.

"His loss I suppose."

"On the contrary…" Christine started as she looked back at Mr. McBride, "He was the best… finding someone to even come close to him would be near impossible."

The conversation carried away from this topic and for the next half hour or so they talked of many things that were not very important. Mostly just the basics of any conversation between people who have not seen each other in a long time.

Christine didn't look back at Erik again and when the maid came in to announce dinner Christine was glad. She could feel Erik's cruel gaze on her and she was glad for the reprieve.

They were led out onto a rather large patio, it was beautiful. A giant trellis was overhead and vines climbed up the sides of the massive structure and hung down. Lanterns were also hung from it and candles were placed all over the edges of the waist high brick walls that surrounded the patio as it expanded from the house.

On the far side the brick walls ended and Christine could see the beginning of steps which led down into the grounds and the vineyard. It was such a peaceful place. On the patio there was room with a large table and chairs, a small area that looked slightly more elevated for a band perhaps then plenty of space for people to stand or walk or even dance if they wanted to.

The dinner went smoothly and there were drinks a plenty to be had. Erik sat at the end corner by Mr. McBride and Madame Giry. Those three spoke quietly amongst themselves as Christine, Meg and Mrs. McBride held a conversation.

"So would it be to rude to ask where Liam is tonight?" Meg asked.

"Oh, he will be along. He went for a hunting trip with some of his friends and has been gone a few days. He was planning on coming home next week but once he heard you would be here Meg he hurried home."

Meg blushed and smiled, "I was hoping he would be here… I have not see him since I was very little."

Mrs. McBride gave a knowing smile, "I am sure he will be along."

The rest of the dinner was just as uneventful, that is until Mr. McBride approached Christine with a smile. Christine felt her heart flip and she knew what was coming.

"Mademoiselle Daae… I understand it's been a few years since you have sang for anyone but I was hoping that you might consider singing something for us?"

"Oh yes! Please do dear!" Mrs. McBride jumped in.

Christine stared at them and then slowly shook her head, "Oh no Monsieur… I have not sang in so long… it would not do justice. But if I ever get on the stage again I will be sure to keep two of the seats open for your personal use."

"My dear… we rarely get such beautiful people out here, let alone such a charming young Diva. It would be a pleasure to hear you even if you missed every note."

Christine gave an inwardly sigh and glanced down the table at Erik and Madame Giry. The latter of the two nodded her head and gave the go ahead with her hand. Shooing her with a quick and even flick of her wrist.

"What would I sing with Monsieur?"

"Well it just so happens that we have a very fine piano in one of the sitting rooms… I will have my servants bring it out." Mr. McBride swept away and Christine shot up from her seat. She stiffly moved down to stand next to Madame Giry ignoring the fact that Erik was still watching her every movement.

"I can not do this. I have had no training, my voice… the music has left me mama!"

"Now stop this foolishness… Christine even before your training you had a lovely voice. I am sure it will be just as lovely. You will get up there and do what you love. Now go!"

"But what would I sing!" Christine pleaded.

"Sing Pie Jesu." Erik said suddenly and silence fell between the three of them. Christine stared at him and then shook her head, "I am to out of practice to sing something of that difficulty."

"My darling, these people will not judge you. They just wish to hear you sing. They will not think any less of you if you miss a note." Madame Giry encouraged.

"But I have no one to accompany me."

"It would be my honor." Erik said. Christine felt her heart almost stop. It was just like practice. Christine couldn't even count how many time she had rehearsed this song with Erik when she had first started singing under his tutelage. Not because Erik liked the song, in fact he found it boring and emotionally empty. But Christine had thought it was the most beautiful song and it was a song about the Lord, which had furthered her adulation for it. He had humored her and helped her to learn it despite the fact she had struggled with every note.

Erik stood and walked into the house to help bring out the piano and Christine felt like she was going to be sick.

She took a drink of water from a glass near by not even curious as to whom it might belong to and turned to see that Meg and Mrs. McBride had moved towards the center of the table so that they could turn to face the area where Christine would be standing.

Christine watched as the piano was brought out and she slowly started to walk towards the house. She didn't feel like she was walking but her legs were moving. Soon enough she was standing next to the piano that was now in position and she turned to face the table.

Madame Giry, Meg, Mr, and Mrs. McBride and two or three of the servants stared back at her. It was the smallest group she ever performed for but she had never felt so nervous in her life. She felt someone approach and sit down next to her at the piano.

"You can do this Christine. Just focus on the music and let everyone else slip away."

Christine nodded despite herself and cleared her throat. She quickly ran up the scale hoping perhaps a brief warm up would help her calm her nerves. When she hit the top not her voice cracked slightly and instantly her mouth clamped down.

"I can't do this Erik."

"Child you have grown weak and nervous in your time away from me. Remember who you are and remember who trained you. I know you can do it so you better show me you can do it. I will be right here playing with you and if you falter I will help you."

Christine nodded and took a deep breath, she ran up the scale one more time, and smiled a little when her voice didn't give way. She nodded to Erik and he started to play the short intro. Christine readied herself to sing.

_Pie Jesu. Pie Jesu. _

_Pie Jesu. Pie Jesu. _

_Qui Tollis peccata Mundi _

_Dona eis requiem. _

_Dona eis requiem. _

She made it through the intro as Erik's beautiful piano skills started to show through. At first her voice was weak and timid but since her it had done what she had asked she felt a little more bold. When she entered to repeat the first verse she closed her eyes and tried to pretend it was just Erik and herself. The music leading Christine to a glorious triumph at the theater.

_Pie Jesu. Pie Jesu. _

_Pie Jesu. Pie Jesu. _

She had finished the repeat of the beginning of the first verse and started to go into the third line when suddenly she heard a voice ring out with her own. She didn't let it stop her because the voice was even more beautiful then her own.

Erik! It was Erik! He was singing with her! They were harmonizing! And it sounded magnificent! He was guiding her through!

_Qui Tollis peccata Mundi _

_Dona eis requiem. _

_Dona eis requiem. _

When that verse was finished there was a short pause where Erik played the piano but Christine didn't allow herself to break the trance she had fallen into. She needed his support to finish this song. The high note at the end, she couldn't do it with out his guidance.

They started the second verse:

_Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei  
>Qui tollis peccata mundi,<br>Dona eis requiem  
><em>

It was one of the most beautiful things Christine had ever heard, her voice and Erik's raised in a harmony that brought tears to her eyes. It felt so good, so right to be up here singing with him. Sharing her soul with his and feeling him in a way she had not felt him in a long time.

They repeated the second verse again continuing their triumphant debut but when they got to the last word Christine allowed her voice to waver. She looked at Erik whose eyes were burning into her; they spoke volumes, _Hit the note or quit singing now._

Christine took a deep breath and with as much strength as she could while still keeping the note soft and passionate she hit the final note and felt it ring through out the entire patio.

_Sempiternam. _

Christine looked to Erik who had a smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes. Then she turned to her small audience and saw their blank expressions.

"Oh…" she said suddenly not so sure she had done as well as she had felt she had.

It was almost to quick to follow but all those who had been sitting shot to their feet and started to applaud and clap like they had just heard Mozart himself.

Christine smiled and bowed, she could feel Erik's gaze on her, she motioned to the piano and the clapping increased. She took Erik's hand and pulled him up to stand next to her.

"My collaborator!" Christine said and Erik bowed with her, she could feel his nerves suddenly at being pulled in front of an audience. He was so used to being heard and not seen.

"Take your accomplishments with grace and gratitude…" Christine Began as she whispered to Erik.

"Or don't perform at all." Erik finished knowing where she had been going with that. He had said it to her once, long ago when he had first come to her.

"My dear that was wonderful! Stunningly beautiful!" Mr. McBride said as he came and took Christine up in his arms. She was shocked by the sudden affection but let it go and hugged him.

"Thank you Monsieur!"

"And you! Erik! What a wonderful talent you have as well! Surely you could take this girl and teach her all you know! She is looking for a teacher after all! Together you two could bring Paris to its knees!"

Christine blushed when she looked at Erik whose face and stony as ever, "That would depend on Miss. Daae." Erik said purposefully choosing to ignore her married name.

"I will let you two talk it out! I must go and round up my musicians! After that beautiful piece I wish to share the music from my country!" He said darting from the patio in a very mischievous manor.

Mrs. McBride approached with a warm smile, "My dear you were wonderful. I have never heard such a pure voice!"

It went on this way for a few more minutes. Even the servants approached Christine and Erik to compliment them and speak of how incredible and fantastic they thought the two were together.

Finally Madame Giry and Meg came to them and Madame Giry spoke, "We should leave soon. Once Mr. McBride starts playing his music we shall not be ourselves."

"Please can we stay a little longer Mama? Liam has not arrived yet and I wish to see him."

"A little longer my child then we should go before we are taken up by the drink."

As if Mr. McBride had heard her through the house he burst from the doors holding to bottles in his hands, "Madame Giry, come and have a glass with me."

"Oh bon seigneur!" Madame Giry said taking a deep breath and shaking her head. Meg and Christine laughed and soon the festivities truly began.


	9. Confessions

**A/N: Okay, it's been a crazy year at college so most of my stories had to be reluctantly put on hold. But hopefully this will start to take priority.**

**Chapter 9**

**Confessions **

Christine was drunk, well, perhaps not drunk but she was rather tipsy. She was most definitely not herself. The music swarmed around everyone. The fiddles were quick and light, the drums were rhythmic and heavy, and the tin flutes intertwined with the rest of the music like a piece of thread in a rather exotic rug. Christine had never heard Irish music before. She had decided early on that she liked it.

Looking across the room a big bright smile broke across her face. Liam had shown up an hour ago and him and Meg had been inseparable since. He was sure a handsome young man, perhaps even more attractive then the Vicomte. Christine was happy for her friend the girl deserved to have someone sporting after her. Meg was so pretty and nice; it would be perfect if he asked her to go out to dinner with him sometime.

Realizing she was in the middle of a dance Christine tucked those thoughts away for a moment and focused on her footing. She was far too tipsy to be thinking, and dancing at the same time. She spun and turned and danced with the rest of the McBride's servants and family. Obviously they did not mind if their servants had a good time with them.

She spun once again as the repetitive song had indicated she should and the smile melted off her face when her eyes met with those of her ex-mentor. She kept her eyes locked with his as she continued the dance. Her head jerking from left to right in a futile attempt to keep track of him. His stare no longer engulfed in angry flames seemed smooth and even, he simply seemed curious as to if she would be able to finish this dance or not.

Christine knew that now was the time, the dance was almost over and she would have to pull Erik aside and tell him everything. She tried to think of how to begin while still trying to focus on the dance steps and had to give a very humiliating apology to Mr. McBride for stepping on his foot. He, however, seemed far more drunk then she and hardly even noticed but with a small laugh.

Finally after more minutes then Christine could count the song ended and she knew her time had come. As the group dispersed and the band started playing another slightly slower song Christina rounded on Meg keeping an eye on Erik. She pulled Meg gently from Liam and said, "I am about to go talk with him… if I am not back in twenty minutes come find us…. And bring Liam." Meg nodded and took her hand, "Good luck."

Christina gave a small smile and then looked across the large patio to Erik who was once again leaning against a post, hands across his chest. He watched her as she gracefully moved towards him, around the table, across the dance floor. Slowly she walked, with even steps, any tipsiness that had been in her system was either gone or momentarily forgotten as their eyes remained tied together. His sliding as she moved around objects and people and hers stuck straight on his with a purpose.

When she reached him she was less then a foot away, neither said anything, she simply took his hand and led him away. They moved silently down the steps and out into the large never-ending grass. Then down a slope and into the vineyard itself, tall grape vines surrounding them, they were practically invisible.

After a good few minutes Christina stopped and bravely turned to face the man of her nightmares.

"Mysterious little girl, you have dragged me so far off. You have something to tell me?" Erik's voice poured, the last time she had heard that tone she had been under his trance and he had been her angle of music. Part of her wished they were still in the Paris Opera house, still playing their little game.

But now it was time to grow up and tell Erik the truth, to tell him that she had failed him in so many more ways then just leaving him for Raul.

Christina took a deep breath and fought back tears, "Erik…" her voice wavered, "Erik I need to… to tell you something." She tried to start.

Erik was going to speak, however, Christine grew bold once again and put her fingers to his lips, "Hear me now or I may never be able to tell you the truth."

Erik did not move, he was silent, still, and if Christine didn't know him better she would said he was dead.

"When I committed my act of betrayal, when I left with Raoul so long ago, oh Erik… the things I must tell you but the strength to do so is growing faint." Christine tried to compose herself and then started again.

"I was with child Erik." Was the next thing to come out of her mouth and she spun to look at him, his eyes were wider then normal, he was surprised but not beyond shocked.

"What I did to you was horrible Erik… but what I couldn't stop was even worse. You came to me the night before my wedding, and I gave myself to you. You took me and gave to me all the love you had and you left me with child. I was so happy Erik… I thought this was the one thing I could do you for you that would repay all you had done for me. Raise your child, and then when he was old enough bring him to you. You would know true happiness then beyond anything I could give you. I would give the child everything, music, love, the best schools and anything he would ever want. I was sure it was a boy, I could feel it."

Christina turned away from Erik and hugged herself, "But Erik, my greatest tribute to you, my gift and my way to keep you with me at all times… I lost it. He came to early and I couldn't stop it. All desires after that stopped. I didn't sing, I didn't eat nor sleep. I sat all day staring out the window praying to God that he would give me back my child. Our child. When my last shred of attachment to you was lost my spirit and soul went out of me. Like a candle. I left Raul in hopes that I would be able to heal, because he knows nothing that a man should know. Not how to comfort me, nor how to listen nor does he understand why I was so destroyed. Erik…. my angle I am so sorry! I am so sorry I lost him!"

Christine looked at his dark face, hardly able to tell his expression, she waited shaking, tears streaming her face. She thought he would never speak when suddenly his hand came up to her cheek. Warm and solid he wiped away her tears and took her up in his arms.

"My sweet Christine, the trials you have suffered at my hands are not something that any woman should have to bare. I have hurt you as much as you may have hurt me, but beyond harsh words or mean looks no woman should have to lose her child, no matter what man it is from."

Christina released herself then, lost in her own relief she sobbed into his chest, the harsh and cruel line of spite between them gone for the moment. The truth of her destruction having been revealed, Erik now knew why she had been torturing herself, why she could not look him in the eye.

"Please forgive me. I couldn't stop the child from coming and I couldn't save him when he did."

"Christine, sweet sweet Christine. I do not hate you nor would I ever hold a grudge over something so painfully cruel. I just wish you had told me."

Christine said nothing as her tears started to recede and now she knew her next step to figuring out her future was on the horizon. She looked up into that masked face, the face that had so often been covered in rage and possessiveness. Would it be so bad to be possessed by someone who could truly understand her? Could she deal with his anger, his mood swings or his mentoring again? The only way she would ever know would be to surrender to him, and she would start by giving him what he always seemed to crave the most from her. She stood on her toes in order to reach his mouth.

Her lips hovered over his, he made no attempt to meet her, and she could tell he wasn't surprised but he did want to make sure that this life was truly what she wanted. Once she agreed to be his again she would never escape. Would she want to?

Finally Erik murmured softly, "Do not kiss me unless you are willing to come back to me. Because if you kiss me and then decide to run again I will come after you and I will catch you and I will keep you." It wasn't just a warning it was a threat. She knew him well enough to know that. It was a dark and sinister promise and Christine took a weary breath as she leaned the last inch and met his lips.

Her fear swelled inside her, was she making a deal with the devil? Would her soul be condemned for what she was about to do? She didn't know, but she missed the music and she missed singing. And he was the only way she would ever feel the music return.

Christine was pulled from her thoughts as Erik suddenly attacked. His fingers dug into her dress, his mouth latched on to hers sucking and biting and kissing. His body pressed her tiny one into the thick vines and trapped her as he hungrily started to untie the back of her dress.

As his lips left hers and started to engulf her neck she felt a sharp pain, he was marking her throat. Sucking with all his might. She gasped in shock and fear as his fingers gave up on the back of the dress and simply reached down to hike her dress up. He managed to grab her thighs and press between them.

"Erik!" Christine cried out as she felt his manhood roughly throbbing through the thick layers of fabric between them. The man froze, he was breathing heavy into her neck, eyes closed waiting to see what Christine had to say, hoping it wasn't stop.

"Erik… I don't know if I can do this… I can't…."

"You are no longer married in my eyes and you've given yourself to me now… you've made your choice and I intend to love your properly. Oh Christine it's been so long. Longer then I can willingly remember since I've been able to show you the extent of my pain and suffering over you."

Christine looked into his eyes, he held her there pressed against the rough vines refusing to release her from his grip. If he thought he was scaring her he acted like he didn't care. Christine felt her arms raise and her fingers gently stroked the soft curves of his mask.

Erik said nothing as she slowly removed his mask leaving the dark brunette wig he wore in place. What she saw was not something that was new to her. She had seen this deformed face before, between reality and her dreams perhaps more then any other person in the known world.

She stared at his sunken eye, the section of his face where there was no skin but bones from his skull. His eye yellow and vain infested. The skin that could be compared to that of yellow parchment stretched across his face like leather and pulled his muscles tight.

She was no longer scared of this face and touched it gently hoping to calm Erik in his testosterone filled frenzy. He closed his eyes and savored the fact that someone was once again touching the part of his face that was usually so isolated and hidden.

"Say you love me." Erik whispered as he pulled her closer and held her tightly. Christine swallowed and wondered what would happen if she refused to say it. She turned her head to whisper in his ear and gently said, "I love you."

Erik hugged her even tighter and took in a heavy shaky breath, she felt him press his lips to her neck and kiss her and then whispered back, "When you mean it, my soul will be complete."

Upon gently setting her down he looked down into her face and gently stroked her cheek. "Your lessons will begin in the morning. You know how I teach so you better come prepared." Christine nodded and waited as Erik slowly fixed her battered dress and retied the back as best he could.

"You won't expect anything of you Christine except to do exactly as I say and don't deny me what I ask. If I tell you to sing an impossible aria you do it. No protest."

Once again Christine nodded, "You shall be the star of my new opera house… and no one will ever take the lead away from you." He bent and kissed her shoulder as he stood behind her.

The young woman stared off into space not sure if the choice she had just made was the right one. But even though there had been no paper she felt like she had just signed her body and her soul over to him… in blood.

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated but I've been busy. So I hope you all enjoyed this if anyone is still reading this piece! **


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